


I Think We're Alone Now

by RoseCallainus



Series: I Think We're Alone Now [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood Friends, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Friends to Lovers, Good Parent Jeralt Reus Eisner, Minor Dorothea Arnault/My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Student My Unit | Byleth, Time Travel, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 93,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseCallainus/pseuds/RoseCallainus
Summary: Byleth never said her life was easy. Growing up as the only child in a mercenary group was hard. Growing up being the only one who could see a mysterious green-haired amnesiac was harder. But both found something in the other, and now they're determined to find out how they're connected.Turns out Byleth isn't the only one with a secret. When her father get's recognised as the former Captain of the Knights of Seiros, only to be recruited as a professor of the Officer's Academy, she gets dragged along and enrolled as a student of the Golden Deer House. But there was something about the cute house leader that seems oddly familiar.Claude never said his life was easy. Growing up being half-Almyran and half-Fódlan, he was hated by almost everyone he met. That was hard. But that changed when a girl from Fódlan saved his life when he was a child. Unfortunately, their friendship was cut short when the girl had to return home. He gave her a ring when they said goodbye, with promise that they would meet again.Never in his life he imagined it would be at the academy, where he was hiding his truth. Why were the gods of fate so cruel to him? Why did it have to be here? Oh well, maybe he could use it to his advantage.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth, Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Series: I Think We're Alone Now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838887
Comments: 268
Kudos: 402





	1. The New Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Byleth's emotions are connected with Sothis, and upon learning that fact, I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Byleth's emotions were unlocked at a younger age. Chances are it would have been Jeralt assigned to be the new professor (with all of his experience) while Byleth was in turn given a place at the academy (since they're around her age). But that also got me thinking... with Sothis added earlier to the equation, what else might have been different? What trouble would the duo get into while they try to uncover Sothis's memories?
> 
> All in all, the beginning will be pretty fast-paced. Each chapter for the first seven chapters-or-so, it will take place between 1169-1179, with the events of the game finally taking place around chapter eight. Also, the chapter will alternate between being centered around Byleth and Claude, since they're both the main characters in this story. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now. Please enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey,” Byleth pouted slightly, “child or not, we’re still stuck together. Besides, it’s not like I’ll be a child forever. In a few years, I’ll be a teenager. Then an adult. So even if we can’t figure out everything about you right away, we’ve got plenty of time.”
> 
> “Do try to avoid getting us killed along the way.”
> 
> “I’ll do my best!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 08/05/2020

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_i. the new ordinary_

* * *

_Great Tree Moon_

_Imperial Year 1169_

* * *

_Everywhere she looked was engulfed in darkness: the ground, the sky, the horizon. From every direction, her eyes met nothing but pitch black._

_It felt… wrong. It felt as though it wasn’t supposed to be dark. Byleth knew she hadn’t gone blind. Looking down at her hands, Byleth could see her pale skin. Every scar, every blemish, every mole. Her skin almost seemed to be luminescent, though that feeling might have been because she appeared to be the only thing around that had any sort of colour. The girl hadn’t the slightest idea why she was visible while everything else was dark. It didn’t make any sense; it shouldn’t be possible, right? This seemed like it had to be a dream. But if it was, then this was the first time in her ten-years-or-so of existence that she had one._

_Unsure of what to do in her universe of darkness, Byleth took a step forward. Pleased to see that the ground was flat, she continued onwards. Though she wasn’t quite sure what she was walking on, she wasn’t too keen on touching it to find out. A small part of her feared that if she did, it would vanish from beneath her and she would fall into the abyss of blackness._

_“Wait. Am I… afraid?”_

_She came to a sudden halt. Her eyebrows furrowed as she replayed the thought over and over. Was that what that sinking feeling in her chest was? Fear? She couldn’t recall ever feeling this before, not even when she had fought against bandits that had attacked her father’s mercenary camp before._

_Shaking the thought out of her head, she continued forward. Whatever she was feeling, she would have to deal with that later. Perhaps it was some side effect of dreaming._

_After she had walked for what felt like hours, and yet no light had appeared. At this point, Byleth was beginning to panic. What if she was trapped here? She had thought it had been a dream, and yet there was always the possibility that she was dead. What if somebody had snuck into the camp and killed her?_

_“Hello?!”_

_Her voice echoed through the darkness, and Byleth frantically turned around, trying to see if she could find any sign of anyone else being there, or if she was utterly alone. She wanted Jeralt—she wanted her dad. But if she was dead, then she didn’t want him to be too. She wanted him to be alive if this is what the afterlife was._

_The heavy feeling returned to her chest as she contemplated the fate of her father, and her once steady breath quickly became shaky. Instinctively, one of her hands flung to her chest to try to steady her rapidly beating heart—_

_Wait. What?_

_Surely enough, her heart was beating rapidly in her chest. But that didn’t make any sense. She didn’t have a heartbeat, a fact that she knew about herself from a young age. Something that her father had taught her how to hide from the medics of their group. Though she thought it was strange, with that look of concern that he was showing her, she knew better than to argue with it._

_“Hello?!”_

_Calling out one more time, Byleth shut her eyes tightly, hoping that this nightmare would end. Not even a few moments later, she felt a wetness on the side of her face. Her eyes shot open—had she been attacked? Was she bleeding?!_

_Wiping her cheek with the back of her palm, she let out a gasp when she saw that it was water on her hand instead of blood. She repeated the action to make sure that her eyes weren’t deceiving her, but the more she looked at it, the blurrier it became as the water ran down her face faster._

_“What is happening? What is happening…”_

_Murmuring to herself repeatedly, Byleth dropped down to her knees, finding that she could no longer support her weight. She knew that she was crying, the girl was a lot of things, but she wasn’t stupid. However, she has no memories of ever having cried. She’s seen other people in their mercenary band cry, of course, such as when another member died. Or when they failed to protect the innocents that they had pledged to keep safe. But during all of that, Byleth never shed a single tear._

_Until now._

_It felt like everything that Byleth had never felt throughout all those years was just finally being released now. She felt fear, and she felt sad, and she felt…_

_She wasn’t sure. It was all just too overwhelming._

_“Nggh… you’re so loud…”_

_Byleth jumped at the sudden voice, her eyes scanning the area, quickly landing on the silhouette of a throne. A girl sat on top of it, who appeared to be not much older than Byleth. The girl’s green hair was held back in two ponytails as an elaborate golden headdress adorned her head like a crown._

_The mysterious girl let out a yawn, stretching as Byleth examined her intricate blue and golden outfit. It was like nothing that she had ever seen before, but it was quite beautiful._

_“Now, first off…” the girl let out another yawn, before eyeing Byleth, “what are you doing on the ground? Get up. Come, come.”_

_Byleth did as the girl instructed, picking herself up from the ground and wiping her eyes. She was grateful for the distraction, though incredibly confused as to what was happening. Sniffling, as she urged herself to stop crying, she took a few steps towards the throne._

_“A child…? I thought that my eyes were deceiving me, but it seems as though I was correct. How in the world did you manage to get in here?”_

_“I don’t know…” Byleth informed her, unable to take her eyes away from the newcomer. “I thought I was dreaming, but I think I might be dead… am I dead?”_

_Byleth’s eyebrows furrowed as her comment elicited a giggle from the girl. She didn’t know what was so funny about her question; she had been genuine. She hadn’t the faintest idea of what was happening, but she had never felt so many… emotions before in her life. The only logical conclusion that she could think of was that she was dead._

_“You are most certainly alive,” the green-haired girl told her, amusement lacing her voice. “As am I, if that was also a concern that plagued you.”_

_“Then, where are we?”_

_“Huh… that answer seems to elude me as much as it does you,” the girl closed her eyes for a moment in deep thought, before opening them suddenly. “Oh, how rude of me! I had utterly neglected to ask your name until this point!”_

_“I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you… I heard you’re not supposed to give your name to the fae.”_

_“I am most certainly not a fae!” the green-haired girl proclaimed, offended. “I am… Sothis? Yes, that sounds right. My name is Sothis.”_

_“I’m… Byleth.”_

* * *

Sitting on the floor of her tent, Byleth played with the eggs on her plate. She was in far too deep of thought to have much of an appetite. She couldn’t stop thinking about her dream from last night. The green-haired girl, Sothis, was quite peculiar. She might not have been a fae, but she certainly wasn’t a human. Despite that, there was something about her that felt familiar somehow.

Byleth was sure that it was a dream; it had to have been. After all, it happened when she was asleep. But a small part of her hoped that it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure if she should chalk it up to loneliness, or because for the first time in her life she had felt something.

Letting out a sigh, Byleth scooped up as much egg as she could on her fork and took a bite. As much as she would prefer to sit around and ponder the events that happened last night, she knew that they were heading out today, so they’d need to get the camp packed up as early as possible. Maybe the next night she would once again encounter Sothis and learn more about the mysterious individual.

After she had finished eating, she had cleaned up and packed up her things. After loading it into the wagon with everybody else’s, she began to look around the mercenary’s camp for her father.

“That’s odd…” Byleth muttered to herself, before approaching Ronan, one of the few mages that were in the group. He also doubled as her tutor when her father was away because he was one of the more educated members, despite only being in his early twenties himself. Though it was an unspoken rule that you didn’t ask about someone’s background in a mercenary group, Ronan was very open about his.

Right before Ronan joined the group a few years back, his parents died in a plague that hit the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus a few years back. Ronan was away from home at the time, attending some Officer’s Academy. However, when he returned home only to learn of both of his parent’s deaths, he entered a very dark place. However, Jeralt and his band of mercenaries ended up coming across him and saw his potential. He joined up with them and never looked back. Since then he’s become a surrogate big brother to Byleth.

“Ronan, have you seen Jeralt anywhere?”

“You know, I think he’d prefer you call him ‘Dad’ when you’re talking about him and not just to him,” the blond told her as he flipped a page in his book. Byleth shook her head slightly.

“He got drunk last night and began venting again, didn’t he?”

“Oh, yes. Big time. The last solo mission that your father went on had managed to stress him out quite a bit, so we’re taking the next few weeks off while we travel. Thanks to Alisha, we’ve got a big job lined up in Fhirdiad. Jeralt was against it at first, but with how much they're paying us for it, he came around. We’ll be heading out as soon as the boss is up and ready to go.”

“You mean he’s still asleep?” Byleth asked, looking back towards his tent. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.

“Aww, is that concern?” Ronan teased, chuckling slightly as he closed his book. “Don’t worry, your old man’s fine. He just drank a little too much last night and needed to sleep it off. You know how he gets. Anyway, there’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about…"

Byleth raised an eyebrow at the man, having no clue what it was that he had to say.

"Last night I had gone to your tent to tell you that your father was back, but you were fast asleep. It's to be expected, after all. You’re still young, and you need the proper amount of sleep to develop properly. Er, before I get off track… you looked like you were, well, _crying_. Is everything okay?”

“Huh?” Byleth whipped back towards Ronan, who was giving her a worried expression. She gave him a small smile and nodded. “I’m fine; I just had a bizarre dream.”

“Oh?” Ronan gestured for her to continue.

“I was all alone in a black abyss or something. I thought that maybe I died. That our camp was raided at night, and we were all killed. But then out of nowhere, there was this girl with green hair…” something in Byleth’s mind urged her to not go into further detail, and she let out a sigh as she heeded the advice. “I don’t know. I’m not used to dreaming, so I think the entire thing was just overwhelming for me.”

“I see…” Ronan nodded before giving Byleth a soft smile, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Well then, why don’t we go over some books before your father wakes up?”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

* * *

It was about a week’s journey for the mercenary band to make it to Fhirdiad, which would leave them with a spare week before their assigned mission. As Jeralt explained to Byleth, they were one of several different mercenary bands hired to help guard the capital of Faerghus for a few months while King Lambert led an invasion against Sreng. Since the king was bringing several of the best guardsmen along with him, in addition to several other troops, the kingdom decided to hire some extra security during their time of absence, to avoid leaving the capital vulnerable.

Someone out there recommended Alisha, one of the highly trained mercenaries in Jeralt’s band, as one of the temporary city guards, and the kingdom was willing to pay too well for them to refuse. Not to mention that they offered an additional bonus for each head that she brought with, as long as she deemed them trustworthy enough to vouch on their behalf.

After about four days of travel, Byleth had already seen Sothis in her dreams twice. However, both of those times, Sothis was asleep, so Byleth hadn’t had much to do besides observe her. After having spent two full nights watching the girl, Byleth had absentmindedly started to draw Sothis in her books. When Byleth had her eyes closed, it was if she could see the green-haired girl no problem. However, as soon as her eyes opened, the details became blurry. The situation had Byleth perplexed.

Looking down at her notes, she had realised that she had begun sketching Sothis, so Byleth decided to try to put more effort into the drawing. So, closing her eyes, she began to draw what she saw, praying that she would be able to portray it onto the paper accurately. Unfortunately for her, Ronan had caught her, and began to give her a longwinded lecture about doodling in her schoolbooks (which Byleth argued that they weren’t technically schoolbooks since she didn’t attend school). Jeralt ended up having to step between the duo to break up their fight.

“What are you two even fighting about?!” he interrogated, and Ronan picked up Byleth’s book and handed it to Jeralt.

“We’re in the middle of lessons, and she decided that she’d rather draw than study! Though I don’t mind her slacking off now and again, this is the third day in a row that she’s blatantly ignored me!” Ronan seethed, and Byleth just crossed her arms and huffed. He was covering things that Jeralt had already taught her anyway.

“Wait, you draw now?” Jeralt turned to his child in surprised, completely ignoring Ronan’s rage. “Ro, why don’t you go eat dinner or something. Let me have a word with my child.”

Letting out a huff, the man walked towards the campfire, cursing under his breath. Jeralt just shook his head slightly, as he took a seat on the ground next to Byleth, letting out a slight huff.

“Damn, not as young as I used to be,” he smiled at Byleth, before putting the book back before her, looking down at the drawing of Sothis. “So, you drew this?”

 **“I will admit, you did a fairly decent job for not being much of an artist.”** Sothis’s voice chimed through Byleth’s ears, causing her to jump, eyes widening in surprise. Jeralt, misinterpreting Byleth’s shock, chuckled slightly at his daughter’s reaction before placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry; you’re not in trouble for drawing in your books. I’m just surprised, is all. I didn’t know you liked drawing.”

“I don’t. I mean…” Byleth was tripping over her words as her mind raced a million miles a minute. Did she hear Sothis? Was she genuinely hearing Sothis?! Did that mean she was here? What was happening? Was she dreaming? It certainly didn’t feel like any other time—

 **“Woah, there. Do try to soothe yourself before you have a panic attack. If I had known you were this weak of heart, I would have waited to converse. Regardless, I can sense your confusion. I promise that I will explain to you all that I know when we’ve got an opportunity to speak. However, that man… he’s your father, no? It would be in your best interest to respond to him before he grows more worried.”** Byleth took a deep breath as she replayed Sothis’s words, before turning back to Jeralt. There would be time for her to sort things out with Sothis later, for now, she needed to ease her father.

“It’s a new thing,” Byleth decided on, “drawing, I guess. I keep seeing this girl in my dreams. I have for the past week or so. Does she seem familiar at all to you?”

“Hmm…” Jeralt studied the drawing for a moment before shaking his head slowly. “Nope, can’t say she does, sorry. Though, this is the first time I’ve heard you mention such dreams. Or, any dreams for that matter.”

“I didn’t think they were that big of a deal,” Byleth told him, secretly happy that Ronan hadn’t informed him that he had caught her crying in her sleep. “Besides, nothing that interesting has happened in them besides seeing the girl. It took me a while to even realise I was dreaming. I honestly thought that I might have been dead.”

Jeralt pulled Byleth into a side hug, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

“You’re okay, kiddo. Just remember that you can talk to me about anything, okay?” Jeralt told her gently.

“Yeah? Even in a few years when I start to, you know…”

“Uhh… maybe you should talk to Lisha about that,” Jeralt avoided eye contact, suddenly finding squirrel running along the tree branch very interesting, only to have a slight snicker sound from beside him. Jeralt's eyes widened in realisation that (since he never brought up menstruation or anything of the sort to her before) Alisha had likely already given her the talk and that Byleth was teasing him. More than that—she was laughing! Jeralt, suddenly couldn’t help but laugh along. “Oh, you little shit. You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

* * *

 **“It’s about time,”** Sothis yawned out as soon as Byleth entered her tent a few hours later. After chatting with her dad, she had dinner and went over the lessons once again with Ronan—proving to him that she wasn’t ignoring the lessons because she didn’t care, she had simply already known the material. Now, she had finally managed to break away, back to her tent, to have a much-needed talk with Sothis. **“If you would have kept me waiting for much longer, then I would have taken another nap. I think I woke too early. Or maybe I had just slept too long. It’s always hard to tell with these sorts of things.”**

“What do you mean?” Byleth asked, furrowing her eyebrows. Sothis has been asleep for days since they last spoke, if anything, the girl was getting too much sleep.

**“I told you my name was Sothis, and that much is true. But I just remembered that I am also known as another name: The Beginning.”**

“The Beginning? What’s that supposed to mean?”

**“I am unsure. That’s just one of the many things evading my memory. The beginning of what? Why did I just now remember, and where are the rest of my memories? Surely, I have them, but how did I lose them? And why is it that we appear to be bound together? There are just so many questions, with so few answers to any of them.”**

“What if… we worked together to try to get your memories back? It’s like you said, after all, we’re bound together. I want answers just as much as you do.”

**“I suppose that might be our only choice. It doesn’t seem as though I have any impact on the physical plane. However, you _are_ a child, after all.” **

“Hey,” Byleth pouted slightly, “child or not, we’re still stuck together. Besides, it’s not like I’ll be a child forever. In a few years, I’ll be a teenager. Then an adult. So even if we can’t figure out everything about you right away, we’ve got plenty of time.”

**“Do try to avoid getting us killed along the way.”**

“I’ll do my best!”

* * *

The rest of the journey to Fhirdiad was uneventful. With a week to kill before they were on guard duty of the capital, the mercenary band all had different ideas on what they wanted to do for fun during their short vacation. Alisha and a few of the other members headed to the blacksmith to get some of their less than desirable weapons repaired. Jeralt and most of the other mercenaries ventured to the taverns, deciding to make the most of the week of free time they had in the city. That left Byleth and Ronan to decide what to do on their own.

“It’s been some years since I’ve been in the capital,” Ronan said, letting out a fond sigh as he recalled the last happy memories he had there with his parents. “I would be happy to show you around in the next few days. However, I must get to the bookstore to purchase some new books and tomes to cover in our next curriculum. Not to mention that there were a few items that Jeralt asked me to pick up—”

**“He certainly does love to hear his own voice, doesn’t he? I’m surprised you don’t fall asleep when he’s teaching you; I know I would.”**

Byleth stifled a laugh at Sothis’s comment, as she couldn’t help but roll her eyes herself at Ronan’s rambles. Even though she didn’t attend school, Ronan took her studying very seriously. If being a mercenary didn’t work out for him, he would be a great professor.

“—you want to come with or check out the city on your own for a while? I don’t think we’ve been in any of the capitals since I’ve begun travelling with you almost four years ago, so if it’s at all intimidating, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

“I don’t mind exploring on my own for a while,” Byleth told the man. “Besides, I doubt that the guard will let me take watch alongside the rest of you, so I’ll have to keep myself occupied somehow while we’re here. It’ll be for over a month, right?”

“It depends wholeheartedly on how long the battle for Sreng takes, you see—”

“That was a rhetorical question,” Byleth told Ronan, proud of herself for remembering the correct term. “I’m going to be spending a lot of time on my own while we’re here anyway, so I should probably figure out how to make the most of it, right?”

“I see your logic,” Ronan nodded. “Very well, you recall the inn that Jeralt pointed out on our way into town, right? That’s where our lodging is, so try to be back there by sundown. I’d honestly rather not go on a city-wide search for you on our first day here.”

“You worry too much,” Byleth told him, as she moved slightly to the side, showing him the sword strapped to her belt. Honestly, it looked like it was much too big for her small frame, but she could use it, and that was the critical part. “Besides, I can defend myself if anything were to go wrong. So, you go do your book stuff, and I’ll explore!”

“You’re… uncharacteristically chipper.” Ronan pointed out, causing Byleth to give him a bigger smile than she would normally.

“That’s because I’ve never been in a capital city,” Byleth admitted. Her father typically avoided passing through them because he claimed that there were way too many people that resided within. Hence, the only jobs that mercenaries could usually get were the kinds that he wasn’t willing to take. “Besides, there are probably kids my own age here. Maybe I’ll make a friend? I don’t know. Either way, it’s all new and exciting! And the mission’s pretty easy, so I don’t have to worry about losing any of you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise that you felt that way. Well, please be careful, okay?” Ronan told Byleth as they said their goodbyes. As Ronan headed off towards the bookstore, Byleth turned the opposite way.

“Okay, Sothis. Does anything here seem familiar?”


	2. Something to Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Claude.”
> 
> “Yes, mom.”
> 
> “Tell me again how you managed to break your leg?”

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_ii. something to say_

* * *

_Lone Moon_

_Imperial Year 1169_

* * *

_Somewhere in Almyra_

* * *

_“Oh look, it’s the whore and her son,” a middle-aged woman sneered. Her gaze had been directed at Queen Tiana and her son, Khalid. Though they hadn’t done anything to warrant mockery, the woman seemingly couldn’t resist partaking in it. The duo had merely been walking down the street, returning to the palace after a trip to the market. However, seeing the lack of guards around the pair, she let out a scoff as she turned to her companions. “Awfully bold of them to be travelling with no guards around, I guess that means that the King finally got sick of them. I bet he’s just waiting for something to happen to them so he can be freed from his mistake.”_

_“You think so?” the other woman’s eyes scanned the area around them to realise that the former was correct, there didn’t appear to be any guards escorting them. “Apparently, there was an assassination attempt on the duo earlier this month too. I don’t know if their lack of guards is supposed to be a statement or what.”_

_“A statement against what exactly?” the first woman’s face turned sour. “Everyone knows that people from Fódlan are weak—they’d stand no chance if anyone were to attack them. In fact, it might be better if somebody did! After all, then the King could marry an Almyran and produce reputable offspring instead of that half-breed.”_

_“I doubt it,” the third woman spoke up, scanning the queen up and down for any reaction on if she can hear them gossiping or not. The queen gave nothing away, however, only stopping momentarily to pick up a fruit that her son had dropped, putting it back into his basket before ruffling his hair, teasing him about having lost it in the first place. “If anything, it’s most likely a power move. Apparently, she’s from Fódlan nobility, so if he played his cards right, perhaps we could use her to our advantage and get some of the territories from Fódlan. The only thing that Fódlan beats us in is in size. If we can flip the tables, then we’ll show just how pathetic they truly are.”_

_“Please, I doubt even our King would stoop so low as to marry someone from Fódlan for power. If that were the case, he would have had someone else high-ranking marry her. If you want my guess, she’s a witch and placed a love spell on him. Heh, that would be just like them. Taking the easy way out, so they don’t have to do any real work.”_

* * *

_“What’s the mutt doing in the training grounds?” two guards gossiped. “Everyone knows Fódlians can’t fight worth shit.”_

_“Maybe ‘daddy’ is finally sick of having a weak son,” the more muscular of the guards said, looking at the scrawny boy as he struggled to pull back his bowstring. His eyes flickered to his combat instructor, Nader. He couldn’t help but wonder why someone as powerful as him would agree to train someone who shared the same blood as the land he so frequently fought against, but he supposed if the King asked you to do something, you didn’t refuse._

_“It’s his own fault for knocking up some Fódlan bitch,” the taller guard stated. “I bet the only reason they got married was to prevent a scandal. Imagine that, the Almyran King having a bastard son. Though, I’ve got to admit, have a bastard would be less scandalous than a half-Fódlan one. I’m surprised that she’s still here. Everyone thought she would be long gone by now.”_

_“Please. If my sister had the opportunity to marry a king from another land, she would jump at it in a heartbeat. Power is power, no matter where it comes from.”_

* * *

From a young age, Khalid was taught to bite his tongue towards the comments directed towards him and his mother. It seemed that no matter where they went, the whispers never ceased to stop. Though no one would dare say anything during the presence of his father, the king, it seemed that when he was absent, they couldn’t help but talk. He confronted his mother about it, once, when he was younger.

“How come their lies don’t bother you?” he had asked her.

“Because that’s all they are: lies.” Tiana, his mother, assured him. The boy frowned at how used to the comments she seemed. It was as if their words no longer phased her, and although he was glad that she was able to remain happy despite it, he still knew that it wasn’t right.

“But they’re mean and wrong!” the boy argued.

“Better men have called me worse things,” was her response.

He knew that his mother was trying to reassure him, but Khalid didn’t feel any better. The young boy heard things spoken about them that no child should ever have to hear, and yet no one did anything about it. He heard it everywhere: the city, the streets, even the palace. It was something that Khalid couldn’t understand, no matter how hard he tried.

For as long as history books have recorded, there were always tensions between Almyra and Fódlan. The Almyran’s viewed the people of Fódlan as cowards, while the Fódlian’s viewed the people of Almyra as savages. Having a parent of both sides, Khalid understood that this was far from the truth. His mother was brave and kind (albeit terrifying when she wanted to be), while his father was strategic and charismatic (and the only one who could handle his mother). Knowing the truth about his parents, he refused to believe the assumptions about them. Though, the prince couldn't deny being curious about how the rumours came to be. Khalid eventually came to understand that people were just afraid of what they didn’t understand, and the ignorance of those around him was causing them more harm than good. As such, Khalid refused to be uneducated on the subject and studied it much more in-depth than most boys his age would.

The two nations were more similar than they realised if they just got off their high-horses and sat down to discuss peace. Khalid's father had tried to reach out towards Fódlan, but there was only so much he could do considering most of the country had been against forming an all-out alliance with their neighbouring country. Luckily, the king was at least able to grant open trade between the two countries. It was a start, though it was a small one.

However, the idea had been a frightening one to the locals, as well as the merchants. It had gotten to the point that it became highly recommended that any merchant who travelled between the two countries have a group of guards. The reason behind this was because attacks were much likelier to happen on foreign merchants than they were local ones, whether it was due to racism or merely the opportunity to acquire foreign goods had been too irresistible for most bandits to pass up.

The more he learned, the more annoyed he got. The fact that the two nations were so close to one another yet seemed to avoid any compromise to see that they were more similar than they would admit seemed stupid to him.

He didn’t see why they couldn’t just get along. Considering his father was married to a woman from Fódlan, he would have thought that people would grow more open-minded about the country. Instead, they hated their queen, just as they hated her son. Though trade was now open, Khalid knew that there was a lot of work to be done. But it was possible to become reliable allies if only people stopped looking at their differences and started looking at their similarities.

But what did he know? He was just a child, after all, one that wasn’t taken seriously at that. He was hated just for existing. How could he ever become a king when his own country wanted him dead? After all, he could hear the guard gossip behind closed doors. He knew just what they thought of him and his mother. And these were the sorts of people who were supposed to protect his family. Luckily for him, this time his combat instructor, Nader, had caught the guards gossiping and quickly reprimanded them. However, Khalid didn’t think that was enough punishment since it happened quite frequently. And when the people who were supposed to protect you secretly hated you, it made Khalid fear for any future assassination attempts on them. If it wasn’t for Nader…

Khalid shook the thought out of his head, now wasn’t the time to focus on that. Right now, his immediate goal was to teach those guards a lesson or two. After spending as many hours studying in the library as he did, he happened to stumble upon some specific books. Though they didn’t have anything to do with Fódlan or Almyra, they did have to do with herbology. One book, in particular, was very useful, as he happened to stumble across an entry about a specific herb, one that was local to Almyra, that when grounded up, secreted an oil that led to severe itching. After acquiring the plant, he had snuck into the guards’ quarters to test out his new… _experiment_.

“That should do it,” he muttered to himself as he finished sprinkling the flakes in the clean undergarments of the guards. Judging by how much his hands were itching; he knew that his plan would work. That is, assuming none of them scrutinised their clothing. He did the best that he could with grinding them up, but if you looked close enough, you would still be able to see flecks of green. Then again, it would seem as though a lot of the guards at the palace had a fairly low IQ.

“Serves them right for talking crap about my mom…” Khalid muttered to himself, scratching the itch on his hand. Those herbs were powerful; he had to admit. He almost felt bad. Almost.

“Better get out of here before I get caught,” he reminded himself, as he began heading towards the door, pausing as he heard voices outside the door in the hallway, voices that were _coming closer_. His eyes widened as he cursed under his breath, knowing that if he got caught, he would be dragged behind the horses again.

The boy swiftly turned around, his eyes scanning over the room as he tried to figure out how to get out without being caught. As he looked around, he realised he had one of two options: hide or jump out the window. He took only a moment to weigh the pro’s and the con’s in his head before his body moved towards the window. Though the fact that he was on the second floor was a huge con, the ground outside was covered in sand. Sand that would absorb the shock from his fall. That added to the fact that the consequences would be even more severe for getting caught had helped him make up his mind. Because not only would the guards realise he was the one who had pranked them but would also have a reason to look the other way should any assassins get into the palace again.

As the voices were now just outside the door, he didn’t have any more time to think. He climbed up onto the windowsill as his young mind attempted to calculate the best way to go about avoiding any severe injuries. Grabbing onto the ledge, he lowered himself down as much as he was able to, trying to put as little distance between him and the ground below. He was lucky that for a kid his age, he had a decent amount of upper body strength. He’d have to thank Nader for his harsh training sometime. Actually, scratch that. If he admitted being grateful to his unconventional training methods, then he would go harder on the boy.

Taking a moment to look down, Khalid could feel the nerves starting to kick in at what he was about to do. But it was too late for him to turn back, he knew, so he settled for taking a deep breath, before letting go of the windowsill as he braced himself for landing.

* * *

“Claude.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Tell me again how you managed to break your leg?” Tiana crossed her arms, looking down at her son. He looked up at her sheepishly, trying to ignore the fact that he was confined to his bed with a cast around his leg. Khalid scratched at his hand, which was covered in a bright red rash, as he attempted to feign innocence.

“I told you. I fell out of a tree and kind of misjudged the distance between me and the ground,” Khalid lied. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have been in a tree, but I was practising with my bow, and the string ended up snapping on my hand which caused my arrow to misfire. I thought that it had hit the tree, so I climbed up to get my arrow back. But it wasn’t there, so I got a little annoyed about climbing it for nothing. And then I fell. I mean, if anything, it’s a lesson that I need to work on my timing and my aim, right?”

“So, let me get this right." Tiana cocked an eyebrow at her son. "You got that rash on _both_ of your arms from getting slapped by the string, climbed a tree to get your arrow back, and got so annoyed that the arrow wasn’t in the tree that was _nowhere_ near the archery range that you fell out of it.”

“I wasn’t practising near the archery range, I was trying to shoot a bird that pecked me, and it landed in the tree. But I think that I need more training…”

His mother shook her head, sighing, as she took a seat on the edge of the boy’s bed, brushing a lock of his curly brown hair out of his face.

“My son, _abnay_ , what am I to do with you?” she gave him an exasperated look, and the boy gave her a sheepish smile.

“You and dad both told me I needed to fight my own battles, so I did. And the bird just so happened to win that one.”

“You need to fight your own battles against other children, not the guards.” Khalid’s eyes widened as he opened his mouth to deny her claim, but that just caused Tiana to chuckle. “Your little lies might work on everybody else but do remember that I’m your mother—I know all.”

Khalid’s mouth still hung opened like a fish out of water as he looked at his mother with a dumbfounded look, trying to come up with a way to counter her accusations. But she didn’t get mad at the fact he lied to her, in fact, she just gave him a wink.

“I’m sorry to be the one to inform you, but you’ve got a tell when you’re lying: you bite your lip. Honestly, if you ever want to fool me, then you’ve got to work on that, Claude.”

“You know, I don’t think most parents would encourage their child to lie,” Khalid pointed out.

“Well, I think we can both agree that our situation here is a bit of a different one. Sometimes you’ve got to focus on what’s in your best interest. Not to mention, I think your broken leg is punishment enough. Now can you tell me why you put itching powder in the guard’s clothing?”

“It wasn’t itching powder—it was, err,” Khalid laughed awkwardly, realising he shouldn’t say anything to incriminate himself. Though Tiana was his mother, this was likely another lesson she was teaching him; otherwise, she wouldn’t have told him what gave him away. “It must have been the gods of fate getting their revenge. They were talking crap—”

“Claude!”

“What?! It’s not like I said shit—” the glare from his mother was enough to shut his mouth and continue his explanation. “Anyway, they were saying really bad stuff about you. And me. And Fódlan!”

“I’m sorry that you overheard them saying that,” she gave Khalid a sad look, causing him to shake his head. She shouldn’t have to apologise for their ignorance. It wasn’t her fault she just so happened to fall in love with a man from another country. His parents made each other happy, but for some reason, everyone around them seemed deadest on destroying their happiness.

“It’s not fair! They shouldn’t hate you for where you come from! They shouldn’t hate me for just existing!” Khalid loathed the fact that he was starting to tear up, but he continued. “When I’m king someday, assuming I manage to survive that long, I want to make things better between the two countries! I don’t know how, but I will! They act like Fódlan is such a bad place, but I know it’s not! It can’t be, you’re from there, and you’re, like, the best mom!”

“Claude, sweetie…”

“They shouldn’t make you feel bad about being from Fódlan! And don’t you try to deny it either, because I know that you do.” The tears were now streaming from Khalid’s eyes, and he tried his best to ignore them. “I’ve noticed for years that you only call me by my Fódlan name when we’re alone together, while everywhere else I’m Khalid. You always tell me not to be afraid of who I am, but I think you need to listen to your own advice. I-I mean, I understand why we live how we do, but I really hate that it’s that way to begin with. And I promise that I’ll make it better someday, I _have_ to. We’re probably not the only family like this, from both Fódlan and Almyra. And the way we’re treated… I don’t want anyone ever to have to feel this way. It’s not right!”

“Claude, _Khalid_ , you really are a special child, you know that? You’re so wise for your age; I feel like we could all learn something from you.” Raising her hand, she wiped away the tears that were streaming down her son’s face as she rubbed circles on his back, trying to comfort the young boy. “Someday, I hope that a future where Fódlan and Almyra will unify. I just don’t think we’re there just yet, but I know that someday we will be. You’re not the only one who feels passionately about this, and I believe that one day, you’ll find others who have the same mindset as you. You are the future Claude, but remember, you’ve got to make it there. You shouldn’t put yourself in harm’s way so fast.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s just…” Khalid sniffled. “Why does everyone have to be so stupid?!”

“Maybe, you’re just smarter. My sweet child… please remember that words can be your greatest weapon. Remember that, and you’ll be able to accomplish whatever you have your heart set on.”

* * *

_Verdant Moon_

_Imperial Year 1170_

* * *

_Fhirdiad, The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus_

* * *

Byleth will admit that she had severely underestimated the amount of time that the king would be at war with Sreng for. She had thought that it would only be for a month or two. However, it had been over a year since they had departed for battle, and she was getting… _bored._ Though she was thoroughly enjoying the capital, this was the longest that they’ve stayed in one place for as long as she could remember.

Byleth and Sothis explored the city from top to bottom; they even managed to sneak into the School of Sorcery (they managed to go unnoticed longer than Byleth thought before they ultimately got kicked out), only to come out emptyhanded. There was no clued about Sothis’s identity anywhere, much to both of their disappointments.

“Where should we try next?” Byleth muttered as she sat on a bench alongside one of the main streets, sketchbook in hand. After they had all met back up after their first day in the city, Jeralt presented her a sketchbook. He admitted that he didn’t buy it himself but had instead asked Ronan to pick it up for her when he went to the bookstore, but Byleth didn’t care. She was just happy that her father cared enough about her apparent interests to spend some extra coin on a gift for her. Before she had realised, she had pulled him into a tight hug, catching the man off guard. He would never have expected that sort of reaction out of her, then again, she wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction out of herself. It turns out that the girl was just full of surprises lately.

Byleth took up the hobby of drawing to make use of her new gift. Thought she would admit that she found it much more enjoyable than she had initially thought. Plus, she could position herself in several obscure locations in the city without attracting any attention during her search for anything to spark Sothis’s memory—under the implication that she was just looking for a new place to draw. Not to mention, it was a good distraction from her ever-growing emotions.

Ever since Sothis had appeared, Byleth noticed that she had stronger feelings about things. If she was eating something she liked, she felt happy. When she saw two of the mercenaries in the group had to carry a drunk Jeralt back home, she felt worried. When she saw two kids beating up a dog, she got mad. Really mad. And so, the two kids went home with broken noses (and possibly a few broken fingers), and Byleth gained an animal companion.

It wasn’t her intention to keep the dog; however, after she had bandaged it up and given it some jerky that she brought for lunch, it began following her everywhere. At first, she thought it just wanted some more food, but when she saw it again the next day, and it followed her to the bookstore with Ronan, she realised that she had made a new friend. After asking Jeralt if she could keep it, he agreed instantly, seeing just how happy it made her. And so, the mercenary band gained a new member: Astra.

The dog got its name from its black fur, which was covered in white spots. And since she had never had named anything in her life before, Byleth was stumped. She didn’t want to give it any of the names that Sothis suggested because most of her recommendations were pretty out there. Besides, Byleth wasn’t sure how she would explain how she came up with any of the names Sothis suggested. So, Byleth settled on calling the dog Astra, since the spots on the dog’s fur reminded her of the stars.

“Where do you think we should go, Astra?” Byleth asked once again, looking away from her sketchbook to scratch behind the dog’s ears. In the few months that she had the dog, he healed up quite nicely. A part of her couldn’t help but wonder if Ronan had learned some healing spells in order to assist the pooch. If she was honest, she half expected Ronan to be the one to object to having a dog around, since it could be considered a “distraction from her studies”. However, she was proven wrong when he seemed to be the most excited about the idea. Apparently, the blond man had a soft spot for dogs.

 **“I am beginning to think that Fhirdiad might be a dead-end in our quest to retrieve my memories,”** Sothis sighed. **“Alas, I suppose it is to be expected. After all, it’s the first location that we’ve been able to explore since I woke up.”**

“We still haven’t explored the whole city,” Byleth reminded. It had taken her a few months to adjust to the voice in her head at first, but now it had become second nature. If something were to happen that caused Sothis to disappear, Byleth imagined that she would be very lonely. Though she knew that there was no guarantee that Sothis and her would still be together once she regained her memories, she wanted to do everything in her power to help. She had become rather close to the girl within the year they’ve been together, after all.

**“If you’re referring to the palace, then I must be honest. I highly doubt that we’ll be granted access in our current state.”**

“Well…” Byleth searched her memory for anywhere else they could check out. “We could try the academy again. I remember where we got caught last time, so we just need to be a bit stealthier.”

“Woof!” Astra barked as he wagged his tail, causing a smile to form on Byleth’s face as she pets the dog again.

“Though, I suppose it might be a bit harder to be stealthy with Astra with us. I wonder if Ronan would mind watching him…”

“Byleth!” a voice called from down the road, causing Byleth to turn towards the speaker.

“Ronan?”

‘ _Speak of the devil, and he shall appear_ ,’ Byleth thought to herself as the man slowed his pace, stopping in front of her. He knelt down and pulled out a treat from his pocket for Astra, petting his head.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you…” the man informed her, and she realised that he sounded a bit out of breath. She looked at him curiously.

“Really? I’m on one of the main streets; I should have been relatively easy to find.”

“Well my first thought was to check the training grounds,” Ronan admitted. “You weren’t there, though. I hope you haven’t become too rusty with your sword from us being here for so long because the army is on its way back from Sreng. We just received word.”

“What, seriously?” Byleth looked at Ronan astonished.

“Yeah, they’ll be back by nightfall. Everyone on guard duty has been invited to the palace to celebrate their homecoming. It's supposed to double as thanks for our hard work.”

“Huh, the palace? Do… I get to come with?” Byleth felt as though she had to ask. She wasn’t allowed to participate in guard duty because of her age; however, the rest of the mercenary band had.

“Of course, dummy. Why do you think I’m telling you? Honestly, sometimes I can’t help but wonder what goes on in that head of yours.” Ronan playfully knocked on the side of Byleth’s head, causing her to pout.

“But that could have just as easily translated to ‘pack up your thing’s we’re leaving tomorrow’ with you.” Byleth deadpanned, causing Sothis to giggle.

“ **Well I must admit, that’s certainly convenient. We’ll be able to know for sure if Fhirdiad’s truly a dead-end in our search or not.** ”

“Well, that was the second thing I’ve come to tell you. We’ve got no reason to stick around, so once we’re paid tomorrow, we’ll be heading out. Err, chances are it’ll be in the afternoon though. You know how the others get when celebrating is involved.”

Thinking back to just how much the members of the mercenary band can drink, Byleth grimaces. She’s confident that most of them could/would drink her weight in alcohol if they were able. It’s both impressive and terrifying.

“Why don’t we just put off leaving until the day after tomorrow? We’ve been here over a year; I don’t think one more day is going to hurt anybody. Besides, it’s no fun to travel with the others when they’re all hungover. They just… complain _. A lot_.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you. I’ll talk with the others about it. Chances are, they’ll be thanking us for postponing leaving come tomorrow. Anyway, shall we head back for a short lesson before we head to the palace for the festivities? Today, we’ll be working on mathematics…”

Ronan continued, and Byleth just shook her head at the young man, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Some things never change.

* * *

_Fhirdiad Castle_

* * *

Byleth was awestruck of how many people could fit into the palace. There were so many people present: the knights, the guards, the servants. And there seemed like there was enough room to spare to fit another army inside. She quickly lost sight of the other members of her mercenary group inside of the room – was this a ballroom? Her knowledge of castles and palaces was minimal, this was her first real time being inside of one. For reasons unknown to her, Jeralt had said that he was going to sit this one out. He had claimed that there were too many people present for his liking. So, he decided to keep Astra company back at the inn, though, if Byleth had to take a guess, he was likely at the tavern next door.

“This place is incredible…” she muttered to herself. “Does anything here seem familiar, Sothis?”

“ **Sadly, no,** ” Sothis informed the blue-haired girl, who let out a sigh, “ **but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to have a good time. They’ve got music; you should go dance! Have you ever danced?** ”

“No, but…”

“ **No 'buts'! I’m confident that we’ll find something out about my past eventually, but we shouldn’t try to force it prematurely. If anything, this just confirms that I’m not from Fhirdiad, which is more than we knew before.** ” Sothis’s voice softened. **“I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but your life is still your own. You should enjoy it; I know I would if I had a body.”**

Sothis was right, and Byleth knew it, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty. Besides, she’s never been to anything like this before; she wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to do. Still, though Sothis didn’t have a body, _Byleth did._ That just meant that she would have to have fun for the both of them, right? And Sothis wanted to dance, so Byleth slowly edged her way over towards the dance floor.

The dancing done was something that she had never witnessed before—not that she had much to go off, the closest thing she had seen was drunk mercenaries dancing around a campfire—but it was incredible! She watched couples spinning each other around before swapping partners, twirling and chatting, smiling and laughing. They all seemed so happy.

Letting out a soft laugh, she supposed she could see why. After all, they had just won a war. It was reason to celebrate; they were still alive, after all. However, Byleth doubted that she would be able to join in on the dance at all. After all, everyone who she’s seen thus far has been an adult. Not to mention the fact that everyone she saw on the dance floor already seemed to have a partner. She doubted that they would want a child, who didn’t know how to dance, interrupt them.

Byleth stood by the dancefloor, watching for almost half an hour without realising. She was so mesmerised by the smooth movements; she had drifted off into a daydream. Byleth wondered if she would ever be able to dance like that, and if she could, who would she dance with? She didn’t know anyone her age, so unless she wanted to dance with Ronan or her father, she wouldn’t have a partner. She supposed she could dance with her sword. That might be interesting if she could somehow combine the expressive art of dancing and sword fighting.

“Hi!” a voice chimed from Byleth’s side, causing her to jump. “Hehe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Looking towards the speaker, Byleth was surprised to see a girl, maybe a few years younger than herself, standing there, twirling a lock of her blonde hair in her hands with a smile on her face.

“Hi?” Byleth’s confusion caused the girl to giggle.

“Wow, Sylvain _was_ right, you are pretty.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?!” Byleth was utterly lost at this point. Who is this girl, why is she speaking to Byleth and who is Sylvain and why do they think she’s pretty?!

“Oh, I should explain, right? My name’s Ingrid!" the girl curtsied to Byleth, who attempted to do it back, causing Ingrid to let out a giggle. "You're so cute!"

"Thank you?"

"Ah, I got sidetracked! I’m here with a few other kids, and we were on the other side of the room dancing. At least, we were until Sylvain saw you. He's one of my friends, by the way. Though how he saw you from all the way over there, I have no idea. I think he just has a pretty-girl-sense or something."

That had to have been the third time that Ingrid has referred to her as being 'cute' or 'pretty' and Byeth had no idea how to feel about it. No one had ever called her that before. It was weird.

"Anyway, you seemed like you were bored, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to join us!" Ingrid spared a glance back in the direction that she came from, her eyebrows furrowing a bit. "Well, actually Sylvain wanted to invite you to join us, but I was worried that he would scare you away, so I came over instead."

"Why would he scare me?" Byleth asked the girl, unsure what about him would be scary. Her mind imagined him as having sharp horns and pointy teeth, and she had to stifle a laugh.

"He’s not scary, not really," Ingrid reassured the girl, giving her a nervous smile. "I promise that he is a good person deep down, but he can be a bit funny if you don’t know him that well.”

Ingrid pointed to a group standing on the opposite side of the dance floor, a reasonable distance away from everyone else. Byleth squinted, trying to make out the features of the group from over there. Ingrid was right to be confused about Sylvain had seen her, she could only make out blurbs of colour. But surely enough, Byleth noticed a red blob wave back when it saw the two girls looking over.

“So, what do you say? Will you come?” Byleth's gaze returned to Ingrid. As she looked into the young girl's bright blue eyes, Byleth couldn’t find it within her to deny her. However, she found herself at a loss of words when it came to accepting, so she just nodded. The blonde girl smiled brightly before grabbing Byleth's hand. “Great, come on!”

Ingrid glided through the dancefloor with ease, going as far as giving Byleth a twirl as they made their way to the others. As soon as they reached the others, Byleth could make them out clearly. The red blob had actually been a red-haired boy. Beside him stood two black-haired boys, the younger one sighed as the older one watched, amused. The final member was a blond-haired boy who looked at Byleth curiously. Ingrid clapped her hands happily.

“Mission successful!” she exclaimed, and the older black-haired boy patted her on the head, causing her to blush.

“Good job, Ingrid,” he praises, before turning to Byleth. “Sorry we stole you away, but I assure you. You’ll have much more fun here with us. Plus, it’ll get these two to shut up.”

Gesturing towards the other black-haired boy and the redhead, Byleth raises her eyebrow in surprise. She figured one of them had to be Sylvain, but who was the other boy?

“Right, I think some introductions are in order!” Ingrid spoke up. "I already told you who I am, and this is my betrothed, Glenn.”

“Betrothed?” Byleth looked at them in confusion, the two of them were her age, and they were already engaged? Glenn couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on the bluenette’s face.

“We’re both from noble families, so our parents betrothed us when we were young. When we’re adults, we’re to be married.” Byleth nodded slowly in understanding. “I’m guessing by your reaction that you’re not from a Crest-bearing family?”

“Oh…” Byleth internally cursed, she had no idea what that meant. She recalled Ronan mentioning Crests when talking about magic before, but it didn’t sound that relevant to the lesson, so she zoned out. “Um… I’m sorry if this is a stupid question, but what’s a crest?”

“What’s a crest?!” the redhead looked at Byleth like she grew a second head, causing the girl to shift awkwardly. She couldn’t help but feel as though she said something wrong based upon the looks that they were all giving her. “Do you honestly not know what a crest is?!”

“I’m afraid not…”

“Shut up, Sylvain, it’s not that big of a deal,” the younger black-haired boy spoke up. “I’m Felix. I couldn’t help but notice you have a sword…”

“Huh?” Byleth looked down at the sword attached to her hip. Though it was still significant in size compared to her, she knew that the more that she grew, the easier it became to carry. Besides, at this point, she was well used to the weight. “Oh, yeah, my father gave it to me. Was I not supposed to bring it?”

“No, there are plenty of other people here who have weapons on them here, I just don’t see that many people our age carry one on them, especially with as much ease as you do.” Was that a compliment? Byleth couldn’t tell.

“I guess you’re right,” Byleth agreed. “I guess it can’t be helped. We travel a lot. This is the first time in my life I’ve been in one place as long as I have.”

“Oh? Is your father part of one of the mercenary groups the king hired to help guard the city while most of the knights were away?” this was the first time that the blond spoke up, and his voice was more gentle than Byleth would have guessed.

“Yeah,” Byleth hoped that they wouldn’t judge her for her upbringing since, from the sound of it, most of the group came from nobility, if not all of them.

“Interesting…” Felix mumbled, giving Byleth a curious look.

“Forgive my younger brother; he’s rather fond of weaponry. I mean, we both are, but some of us have more subtlety than others.”

“Hey, I’m subtle.”

“When it comes to admiring weaponry, you’re about as subtle as it comes to Sylvain admiring cute girls,” Ingrid teased.

“Please don’t mind them, we’ve all known each other since we were little,” the blond spoke to Byleth, as they watch the three of them go at it. “I’m Dimitri, by the way. Just… Dimitri.”

“Well, ‘Just Dimitri’, it’s nice to meet you,” Byleth smiled at him, something that he happily returned.

“Nothing like saving the best for last, I always say,” the red-haired boy spoke up, sending a wink at Byleth.

“That’s just what you say to make yourself feel better about always coming in last place,” Felix interrupted, causing Byleth to laugh.

“Why do you hate me?” he gave Felix a pouty face, to which the black-haired boy stuck out his tongue. Rolling his eyes, he turned back towards Byleth. “Anyway, where was I? The name’s Sylvain. Now, tell me… Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?”

“I’m Byleth,” she told them, a warm smile on her face.

“Well, Byleth… do you know how to dance?” Ingrid asked the girl, who shook her head no. “Don’t worry; we can teach you! So, which one of you boys wants to be this lovely girl’s dance partner?”

* * *

“I’ve got to say, I’m impressed,” Sylvain said as he and Byleth took another step during their waltz. “However, some people might view it as rude to not even spare a glance at their dance partner.”

“Huh?” Byleth looked up from her feet to her partner. After Ingrid had suggested that one of the boys pair up with her to dance, Sylvain jumped at the opportunity. It looked as though the other two boys were about to object to Sylvain having anything to do with her, however, neither of them got a chance as Dimitri and Felix had been called away to help the latter’s father with something. Ingrid simply told Sylvain to behave, before going off with Glenn to dance. So here Byleth was, trying her best to avoid stepping on Sylvain while he taught her to dance. It has been successful thus far; however, she didn’t want to jinx it and end up stepping all over him. “Sorry, I just—”

“Heh, I’m teasing you,” Sylvain winked, causing Byleth to roll her eyes. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. As much as I’m grateful to you for not breaking my toes, I don’t think you need to worry much. You’re a natural. It’s honestly kind of amazing.”

“You’re just saying that,” Byleth looked back to the floor again, this time not to watch her steps, but to hide the dust of pink on her cheeks.

“I’m not, though. I’ve honestly never met anybody like you.” Sylvain told her, and Byleth frowned, assuming it was another attempt at a stupid pick-up line, that is, until he continued. “Have you really never heard of Crests before?”

“I don’t think so,” Byleth told him, still avoiding looking at him. “I mean, maybe in one of my magic books. But if I ever saw anything about it, my brain didn’t register it as being important enough to remember. Is that… bad?”

“Oh, goddess no,” Sylvain responded, almost too quickly. “It’s honestly refreshing; there are way too many people who care too much about that sort of thing. My family included.”

“You make it sound like you’re not the same as the rest of them.”

“That’s because I’m not,” Sylvain gently removes one hand from her waist and places it under her chin, guiding her face to look at his, brown eyes staring intently into her own. “Have you ever had anyone try to kill you before?”

“Yes,” Byleth swallowed, trying not to focus at the close proximity of them, “I have.”

“So have I,” Sylvain admitted, removing his hand from her chin. Despite now having the opportunity to look away, Byleth’s gaze remained locked on Sylvain. “All for simply for having a Crest. It’s not a very fun feeling, is it?”

“I’m sorry.” There wasn’t much that Byleth could say to make the situation better, she didn’t have a Crest, so she couldn’t relate at all to the challenges that came with bearing one.

“You don’t have to apologise for something that you’ve got nothing to do with,” Sylvain told her, letting out a soft sigh. “You know, that’s probably the first time I’ve told anyone about it. Don’t think that it’s because I want your pity or anything, I just… I don’t know. I’ve just kept it secret for so long; I guess I just wanted to say it out loud to someone who might be able to understand. Not many people our age know what it’s like to fear for their lives. It makes us realise just how short it is—that it could be ripped away from us at any moment.”

“Sylvain…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so depressing. Do you mind if we step outside for some air for a minute?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice…”

With that said, Sylvain and Byleth took a step onto the balcony, away from the crowd. Breathing in the cold, night air, Byleth felt instantly refreshed, and she hoped Sylvain felt the same. She couldn’t help but empathise with the boy. Though he seemed too flirty for his own good, he did appear like he had a good heart beneath it all. Turning to look at the red-haired boy, she saw him leaning against the balustrade, his eyes closed, taking in the fresh, night-time air.

“Hey, are you alright?” Byleth enquired. She didn’t mean to pry into his business since they had just met hours before, but she couldn’t help but be concerned. Maybe it’s because she’s never been around anyone her age before, or because they both have had attempts made on their lives. It’s a traumatic experience, she will admit. For her, it was a given, since she grew up in a band of mercenaries who typically dealt with less-than-pleasant people. But for him, it must have been a completely different scenario.

“Yeah, never better,” Sylvain flashed Byleth a smile, and she could tell in an instant that it was fake. Tentatively moving her hand, she placed it onto his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, I just got a bit overwhelmed there.”

“I know what you mean,” Byleth assured. “When you start remembering certain things, bad things, the last thing you want is to be surrounded by people. Feels like everything starts closing in and everyone’s eyes are on you, even if they’re not…”

“Then you just want to leave, hide, completely avoid showing your face to the world for a while until you’re okay again. Or at least, okay enough to convince everyone else.” Sylvain let out another sigh and ran his hand through his hair (the one Byleth wasn’t holding). “Why am I telling you all of this? I barely even know you…”

“I think it’s _because_ you barely know me,” Byleth stated, continuing her train of thought out loud. “It’s easier to open up to strangers because they don’t have any sort of… _expectations_ of you. With your friends, you probably don’t want them to think of you differently, right? Well, with strangers, when you say goodbye, chances are it’ll be your last goodbye.”

Sylvain looked at Byleth with an indecipherable look on his face, causing the girl to remove her hand from his own as she fiddled with the hem of her shirt awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this, am I? I don’t actually have any friends besides the members of my father’s mercenary group, and the youngest one there’s at least twice my age. And while I’m not typically one who confides in strangers, I do find it easier to speak with you and the others than the other members of my group. Which, I’m sorry if I shouldn’t since I’m a commoner and you all are nobility. I’m still not completely sure how that all works and I—”

Byleth is cut off by something warm against her lips, and it takes her a moment to realise that Sylvain is kissing her. His lips her pressed gently against her own, and she could feel his hot breath mingle with her own. Byleth’s first thought was to push away; however, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Oddly enough, it felt… nice. And without thinking, Byleth kissed him back.

It only lasted for a few moments, before they both pulled away, the colour of their cheeks rivalling Sylvain’s hair.

“I’m sorry, that, um, that was the first thing that I thought of.” Sylvain apologised, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I, uh, didn’t mind…”

“Good. But you believe me when I say that, none of us care if you’re noble or not.” He reached over and grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, much like she did for him. He smiled at her gently. This time, the smile was real, and not forced like it was just a short while ago. “And you’re probably right; it is easier open up to you about this than Dimitri or Felix. However, friend or stranger… I hope that this isn’t our last goodbye.”

“I’m sorry,” Byleth gave him a sad smile. “But we don’t have a reason to stay in Fhirdiad anymore though, now that the knights are back, we’ll be gone in a few days.”

“Oh,” Sylvain frowned, seeming genuinely disappointed. “Well, I guess we should make the most of tonight then.”

Taking a step back, Sylvain bowed to her as he held out his hand.

“May I have this dance, milady?” Byleth couldn’t help but let out a giggle as she grabbed his hand as he led her back inside. However, she couldn’t help but thinking back to the stolen kiss out on the balcony, causing her smile to widen. She thought back to what Sylvain had said earlier, how life could be ripped away from them at any moment. She likely would never see the boy again after that night, so she was happy to have this memory with him.

She was happy to have this memory of the boy who stole her first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 08/05/2020
> 
> This chapter was brought to you by: 'Something To Say' by The Great Gable
> 
> Yeah, I wasn't anticipating that ending either. I just started writing and let the story go where it wanted, and that's where it chose to go. Hope you enjoyed it, regardless.
> 
> Please, let me know your thoughts ^^ and Happy (belated) Valentine's Day.


	3. One of Those Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you’re not from Ordelia, I don’t get why you care about what we’re doing,” Ana spat towards the child, who simply cocked her head.
> 
> “And what’s that?”
> 
> “None of your damn business!”

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_iii. one of those nights_

* * *

_Harpstring Moon_

_Imperial Year 1174_

* * *

_Eastern Hyrm Mountains_

* * *

“ **Are you sure that it is a wise decision for you to be out here on your own?** ”

With a roll of her eyes, the young girl continued onwards, being guided by only her intuition as she delved deeper into the mountains. She instinctively tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword as a reminder to herself that she was armed and would be able to handle most things that came her way. She’s come a long way over the years, and she was confident in her fighting ability against most enemies.

“You were the one who wanted to come here, Sothis,” she reminded, coming to an abrupt halt as she heard a rustle in the foliage up ahead. Unsheathing her sword, she held it in front of her, the moonlight reflecting off the cold metal as it readied for an attack. Both girls were silent as Byleth held her stance, ready for anything to come out at her. After a few minutes of waiting in anticipation, it had become clear that whatever had made the noise wasn’t an attacker, and Byleth reunited her sword to its sheath. “Must have been the wind…”

“ **I do hope you’re right. I can’t shake this feeling that something bad is going to happen here, or perhaps it already has. I may not be getting any concrete memories, but I am getting feelings. And the feelings that are coming to me, I’m afraid to say, are not positive ones.”**

“That’s something to go off of at least.”

 **“Perhaps, but I still think that being here is a bad idea. I thought that if we came, it would be with your group. Or at the very least, in the daylight. You are at a clear disadvantage for any obstacles we might encounter.** ”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Byleth replied simply, softly shrugging as she continued forwards. Brushing past a low tree-branch, she made sure to use her dagger to create a notch on the trunk directly beneath. To the untrained eye, it would just look like a defect in the wood; however, it was a technique that Byleth had been taught to avoid getting lost.

“ **Need I remind you that you are a _child_ ! And a foolish one at that! **”

“Ouch, love you too, Sothis.”

“ **Don’t give me that! You know that I wouldn’t be like this if I didn’t care, and I would rather us avoid any unnecessary risks. We would have been fine coming when there’s daylight. But nights are dangerous to be lost in the mountains.”**

“But I’m not lost,” Byleth pointed out, as she made another notch. “Plus, you heard my dad; we’re leaving for the Leicester Alliance as soon as the sun’s up. So, this might be our only chance to investigate the Hyrm Mountains. You want answers about who you are, don’t you? And this is the first lead we’ve had in, what, four years? Five?”

“ **But we should try to stay realistic,”** Sothis reminded, **“if nothing’s triggered my memories thus far, maybe they’re just destined to be forever lost.”**

“I refuse to believe that,” Byleth responded without hesitation. She didn’t want to give up, and she knew that deep down, Sothis didn’t either. She understood that it might seem like a lost cause—they’ve travelled all over Fódlan by this point, from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus to the Adrestrian Empire, and now they were making their way towards the Leicester Alliance—but she refused to quit. There were still so many places undiscovered, so many places that might hold a key into unlocking Sothis’s memories. Sothis was more than just Byleth’s best friend; she was a part of her. And she refused just to sit back, knowing her friend was suffering.

“ **You are an odd one; I will give you that,** ” Sothis let out a sigh, knowing that arguing any longer would be pointless with a child as stubborn as Byleth. “ **Just be cautious. Remember, my life is intertwined with yours. I would rather not have it be abruptly ended because you acted stupidly**.”

“Hey, have a little faith. I haven’t gotten us killed yet.”

“ **Just don’t let your confidence lead to cockiness.** ” Sothis reminded, causing Byleth to roll her eyes. She was only in her early teens (probably), yet she could take down men that were twice her size—she was sure that her confidence wasn’t misplaced. When you’re in the midst of combat, you must trust yourself and your sword, since a moment of hesitation could lead to death. She didn’t know why Sothis had so much uncertainty when it came to Byleth’s fighting. She could only assume that Sothis wasn’t a swordsman in her lifetime, or else she would have known that basic rule.

Deciding to end the conversation at that, Byleth focused her attention on delving deeper into the forest. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, but she figured that she'd know it when she saw it. Byleth assumed that it would be something magical since that was the only thing that she could think of that had the potential to bond two souls together like she and Sothis were. Their connection was one of the biggest mysteries that the two had faced, and something told Byleth that it was all somehow connected.

Letting out a soft sigh, she massaged her temples. She should focus more on the investigation itself rather than contemplating the reasons why she was investigating. So instead of getting lost in her thoughts, she should focus on the area around them, if Sothis got strong enough feelings from where they were at, maybe Byleth would be affected as well. At the very least, it didn’t hurt to try.

Closing her eyes, Byleth tried to take in the world around her from a sense other than visual. She breathed in the scent of moist soil and pine trees, as her ears tuned into the sound of crickets chirping and voices in the distance.

Wait, voices in the distance?!

Byleth found her feet frozen to the ground as her eyes flung open at the realisation that she was no longer alone; that two voices were being carried along by the wind past her. Though she had been prepared to cross paths with wolves or other hostile creatures, she didn’t anticipate coming across anyone human in the mountains other than someone from her mercenary group.

 _‘And I’m nowhere near the camp…’_ Byleth reminded herself. She had been purposely travelling away from her camp since she wandered off to avoid getting caught sneaking off, so there was no way that anybody else from her group would have gotten ahead of her.

Her mind flickered through several possibilities of who it could be that was speaking up ahead, every one further increasing her anxiety. She didn’t see any towns in the mountains marked on the maps, so it was much more likely that it was bandits. However, because of the distinct lack of towns, the mountains were a terrible location for bandits to live, since they would only be able to rob travellers, which itself was a rare occurrence since more people prefer to travel around the mountains than directly through.

Looking back in the direction of the mercenary camp, she couldn’t help but worry for her people. Given the fact that bandit activity was so low within the mountains, she did not doubt that even her father’s men had their guard down, expecting only wild animals to give them any issue. And considering that Byleth was able to sneak off so easily, she did not doubt that someone could just as easily sneak in. She could either run back and warn them or assess the threat herself and take care of it if needed.

Taking a deep breath, she knew what she had to do. She crouched down and crept towards the speakers. Luckily, it seemed as though they weren’t expecting anybody else to be in the mountains either, as they found no reason to have their voices hushed, making pinpointing their exact location an easy task for the girl. As they came within eyesight, Byleth ducked behind a bush, before peeking through the greenery at the two figures. It was times like these that Byleth was grateful for her dark clothes, which blended her in seamlessly with the night.

Looking through the brush, she wasn’t sure what she expected to see when her eyes finally landed on the causes of her internal distress, but she was certainly not expecting to see two figures with their features obscured by bird-like masks.

Come to think of it, Byleth vaguely recalled learning about similar masks in the history books that Ronan had her read. They were typically worn back during the plague, which was supposed to keep away any miasmic scents that might contain the disease to prevent it from being spread to the doctors who were trying to treat the infected. However, if her memory served her correctly, Miasma was also a dark magic spell. So, were these guys doctors or mages?

Shit, she should really pay more attention to her reason studies.

“ **Byleth, do you recall the bad feelings that I have been getting? I believe that they are originating from these people. I don’t know why, but I urge that you go back. I expect nothing good to occur in their company. You’re best of heading back to your camp where you’ll be safe—where you can help keep the others safe.”**

Byleth furrowed her eyebrows at Sothis’s comment but dared not risk being overheard by responding. This just made Byleth even more curious about the masked figures, and she edged closer to them, her hand tightening on her sword. She focused on trying to make out the words that they were saying, which was a little tricky with the masks muffling their voices. However, it was but a momentarily delay, and Byleth found herself absorbed in their conversation.

“—down to only three survivors from the experiments,” Byleth was surprised to hear a feminine voice emerge from behind one of the masks; however, she found the words that left her more surprising. What experiments? “Honestly, I don’t see why we keep continuing it. From the look of things, even if any of them survive until the end, it won’t be for long. It’s useless. I don’t _like_ doing useless things.”

“Is that actually the reason you’re so against continuing?” the second voice was male, and it sounded as though it was taunting the first rather than seriously asking her. “Or is it because it’s on children? Come on, Ana, you know it as well as I do: we have our reasons behind everything. Unless you’re just trying to find an easy out? Would you like me to tell Thales about your newfound ‘morals’? I’d honestly hate for you to cause trouble for the rest of us further down the line.”

“That’s not at all what I’m saying, and you know it, asshole. They’re _dropping like flies_ ; we need to revise our method of procedure before continuing forwards; otherwise, we will be completely out of subjects before we get it perfected. However, if you still insist on discussing my ‘feelings’ on this with Thales, then I’ll just inform him on how you slaughtered one of them for annoying you.”

“For annoying me?! That’s a fucking understatement—the little brat bit me. He needed to be shown his place.”

“Speaking of showing someone their place, it seems as though you two loud-mouths have attracted an audience.” A gasp escaped from Byleth as the new voice appeared from behind her, and luckily reflexes took over before she fully processed what was happening, because if they hadn’t, she had no doubt that the lightning bolt that was sent flying towards her would have hit. Instead, it had landed right beside her, the ground still scorched and hissing, as she swiftly readied herself into a fighting position. Byleth’s sword was gripped tightly in her hands as she narrowed her eyes at the current attacker. “Well, well, well. This one’s a fast one.”

“ **You idiot, you got caught.”** Sothis reprimanded, worry seeping through her harsh tone.

“I’m not caught until I’m caught,” Byleth muttered, observing the masked man in front of her. He, too, had a plague mask concealing his face, while his body was adorned with a black and gold embroidered cloak. Though it looked fancy, she highly doubted that it would provide much protection from her blade. Not to mention that the fact he announced himself before attacking, he was already taking her too lightly because of her age. So, despite the battle being three-against-one, if they all continued to underestimate her, she might just stand a chance.

Launching her feet against the ground with as much strength as she could muster, she leapt towards him, hoping to take him by surprise. As she neared his body, she swung her sword in a downwards motion, slicing him diagonally across his chest. He cried out in pain as the scent of iron hit her nose, and she knew her assumption was correct: there was no armour under the cloak.

“Ow, you little bitch! You’ll pay for that!” he cursed, as he readied another spell which Byleth prepared to dodge. However, he was cut off by a plume of fire spreading in his and Byleth’s direction from one of the other two masked individuals.

Byleth screamed out in pain as she felt a column of flames hit her from behind, tossing her limply to the ground, the clothing on her back burning away as the flesh boiled and blistered from the contact with the fire.

“Shit…” hissing in pain as she moved, she shifted her head to look ahead at her previous opponent, only to find him laying limply on the ground. It seemed that he had managed to get hit head-on with the fire spell and was now laying on the forest floor a few feet away from her. Byleth bit down on her lip as she moved her arm to try to locate her sword, which had fallen onto the nearby ground when she was attacked. Trying to push both the pain and the unpleasant scent of burning flesh it to the back of her mind and she focused on regripping her sword as soon as she found it. She had to fight through the pain; if she didn’t, she would die.

“Ocellus, you _fucking_ idiot!” Ana exclaimed, and Byleth realised that her fallen form was luckily still concealed from the duo because of the (now on fire) bush she was hidden behind before. Why did it have to be fire? “You’re not supposed to kill our allies! I mean seriously?! Ragnarok?! She’s a damn child. She doesn’t warrant one of your strongest spells. One of your simpler ones would have done the job just fine.”

“I might have gotten a bit too excited there,” the man, Ocellus, laughed maniacally from underneath his mask. His voice was getting closer to the fallen duo, and Byleth pulled her sword closer to her body as she took a deep breath, readying herself for a surprise attack. The pain was almost unbearable, but she knew that she had to power through. They had thought that Ragnarok was enough to incapacitate or kill her, but as long that she could still move, she would take every opportunity she had to fight.

As Ocellus’s dark chuckles grew ever nearer to her and his companion, she readied herself, holding her sword hilt so tightly to her body that her knuckles were going white. She wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t give up.

_If he wanted her dead, then he would have to try harder than that._

“Who the hell is this kid anyway? She’s not from Ordelia, is she?” She felt Ocellus’s hand tightly grip her shoulder as he moved to flip her body to identify her. She knew that this was her opportunity to take him by surprise, and as soon as she felt her body move towards him, her eyes flung open, and she swung her sword down with all her might at the arm currently he had on her.

A screech escaped his lips as his hand detached from his elbow and landed on Byleth’s lap, blood pouring out of the wound at an alarming rate. Dark eyes flickered between the blood, the hand, and the man, and Byleth scowled as she pushed the severed hand off her as she pulled herself up, before her eyes finally settling on the form of the masked man in front of her. Her face was devoid of any and all emotion, and she sized him up, determining the quickest and most efficient way to finish him off. At this point, her fight with him was purely for survival. If she didn’t kill them, they would kill her. There was no doubt in her mind.

“Fuck!” Ocellus cursed, as he stumbled back, grasping at his now amputated arm. Byleth watched him as he once again summoned fire to his hand; however, instead of aiming it at her, he instead directed it towards his bleeding arm as he cauterised the wound.

“So, you can spell cast without any verbal components? Interesting…” it certainly explained how they kept getting the jump on her, but now she knew if she saw the movement, she would be able to anticipate the attack. Under ordinary circumstances, she would be impressive; there weren’t very many mages that had that ability. However, her mind seemed to have reverted to the constant state she was in during her youth: emotionless. Her eyes moved from the man towards the woman, Ana, standing several feet away, who hadn’t yet moved to attack. But Byleth learned her lesson; she would not forget about her as a threat.

She flicked the blood from her blade and onto the earth beneath her. She stared blankly at the two of them as if tempting them to try to come at her again. She was trying to deduce which one of them was the more significant threat at the moment: Ocellus, the fire mage, or Ana, the wild card. Though the former only had one hand remaining, she had just witnessed him summon flames to his remaining one with just a snap of his fingers. But his injury would make taking him down easier, unline Ana, who hadn't been injured in the slightest. Therefore, it might be a more tactical move for Byleth to attempt to wound the woman in an attempt to even out the battlefield a bit.

“Seems like Strabo was right, this kid is a fast one,” Ana spoke up, pulling Byleth from her thoughts as she took a few steps towards the girl, and Byleth’s made up her mind about her approach to the situation. “We’ll just have to see who’s faster.”

As soon as the words left Ana’s mouth, Byleth was already sprinting towards her. For being a group of mages that were able to cast without using verbal commands, they sure did speak a lot. It wasn’t exactly the most efficient strategy if they continued to announce themselves before they attacked.

As Ana readied her attack, Byleth recognised the movements as wind magic—the same kind that Ronan specialised in. Though Byleth wasn’t aware of the specifics of the attack, she did know that if she managed to avoid being in Ana’s direct path, she would likely be unharmed by the attack.

The moment that Ana moved to release her spell, Byleth, who was just a few meters away, dove to the ground and slid, her sword aimed upwards, slicing Ana’s leg as she moved past her. Letting out a loud hiss at the pain coming from the burn on her back, Byleth stood up behind Ana. Byleth’s assumption was correct: the masked woman’s attack had missed her target. Unfortunately. It seemed as though did too much damage to the woman either.

“If you’re not from Ordelia, I don’t get why you care about what we’re doing,” Ana spat towards the child, who simply cocked her head.

“And what’s that?”

“None of your damn business!” Ocellus sends another plume of fire towards the girl, which Byleth narrowly avoids. However, as Ocellus has her attention, Ana makes use of the opportunity to blast her with a gust of wind, flinging her already wounded body back several feet, onto the ground. Byleth let out a cry, landing on the burns on her back. She tried to recollect herself; however, her body was still recoiling with pain, and she found herself unable to move, no matter how much her mind screamed at her otherwise.

“Aww, looks like the poor girl’s resolve has finally run out.” Ana taunted, taking a few steps towards the girl before stomping on the arm that had once her sword. Though the sword has flung from Byleth’s grip, this action caused her to realise just how bad of a situation she found herself in. “Or perhaps the adrenaline is just finally wearing off, and you realise just how badly you fucked up. Putting you out of your misery would be mercy at this point, wouldn’t you say Ocellus? Maybe we should use her for the experiment instead, after all, she’s quite a fighter.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m just going to let her to,” Ocellus spat as he made his way over to the girl, “you better let me finish her off, after all, it’s payback for her chopping of my damn hand.”

“Any last words?” A ball of flames formed in Ocellus’s hand and Byleth knew that fighting back was useless at this point. She mustered up the sharpest glare that she could as she stared up at him, but he seemed entirely unaffected. “No? Then die.”

As soon the words left his mouth, Ocellus launched the fireball at Byleth’s chest, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream as she saw nothing but red as the inferno consumed her, and she quickly felt her skin ablaze as she readied herself for death. But then, the impossible happened.

The fire stopped spreading, the figures stopped moving, and the injuries stopped hurting. Everything just…

**S**

**T**

**O**

**P**

**P**

**E**

**D**

And Byleth was consumed by darkness.

* * *

_When sense finally came back to Byleth, she raised her hand to her chest, expecting to feel the damaged and scorched flesh beneath her hands. However, she was met with the black fabric of her shirt. Looking down, she saw that she was completely unharmed. There were no injuries; there was no blood. If she didn’t know better, she would say that she'd reverted to how she had appeared earlier that night, before the brutal fight._

_“What… just happened?” Byleth found herself asking. “Am I dead?”_

_“’Have a little faith,’” Sothis mocked, irritation obvious in her voice as she marched towards the girl. “‘I haven’t gotten us killed yet.’ Well, that streak has officially ended, young lady! If it weren’t for me, we’d be quite dead right now!”_

_“But we’re not…?” Byleth stated although it came out as more of a question as she looked helplessly at Sothis for an explanation. “How are we not?”_

_“It’s because I rewound time to before you decided to sneak out. Right now, your body is back in bed at the camp, while I pulled your consciousness into our little world, here,” Sothis gestured around them, and Byleth realised that they were in the dark throne room that they typically met up in whenever Byleth had encountered Sothis in her dreams._

_“I couldn’t risk us running into those masked figures again,” she continued. “They’re much too strong for us. I told you that you were acting foolish. Not to mention... after they attacked you, you reacted differently than anything that I’ve seen in the entire time I’ve known you. It frightened me if I’m honest. I don’t know if it was because of the dire situation we found ourselves in, or what. Just know that I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”_

_“I… I think I know what you mean.” Byleth didn’t know how to explain it, she was fully aware as to what Sothis was talking about, but she hadn’t experienced something like that since she and Sothis had been bonded. Her emotions seemed to revert to her childhood state, back before Sothis was awake. She was emotionless and analytical, acting merely on strategy and the basic need for survival._

_It wasn’t as though she had strong bloodlust, but in that state, she had no sympathy. She gave her opponents two options: stand down or die. So long as she survived, she didn’t care what happened to her enemies. But although she was without sympathy, she wasn’t without reason. She knew that if she had died there, then her attackers might have gone to investigate where she came from and find her entire mercenary camp while doing so._

_She understood why it scared Sothis. To be honest, it kind of scared Byleth too. Considering the state that she was in during that fight, she was shocked that she hasn’t passed out from the pain. She had never been so severely injured in her life, and yet she still felt as though she could fight. She would like to think that it was the adrenaline, or that Sothis had affected her body more than she had initially thought._

_But truth be told, she hadn’t the faintest idea. Byleth knew that she wouldn’t be able to explain it to Sothis, considering that she couldn’t even explain it to herself. She couldn’t even discard the possibility that their magic just had some adverse reaction on her. However, there was one thing that Byleth knew that could have been a leading factor into her to entering that state._

_“I’m afraid of fire,” Byleth admitted. “I know that’s not an excuse for my actions; I don’t entirely understand them myself. But I do know that during that fight, my emotions shut down. My body and mind were moving on their own. Maybe that was like… a defence mechanism or something? I’m not quite sure, but whatever it was, was confusing.”_

_Not to mention the fact that as soon as their magic touched Byleth, she couldn’t hear Sothis’s voice until she was pulled back into her world. She wasn’t sure if this was coincidence or not, but she was almost too scared to ask. For all she knew, Sothis had just decided to go silent during the fight as not to distract her. She probably should have just taken Sothis’s advice and turned back. Something about those guys just wasn’t right. But she had to know._

_“So, have you always been able to do this?” she found herself asking, still trying to wrap her head around what just happened. “Rewind time, I mean.”_

_“I have,” Sothis admitted, letting out a sigh, “though I will admit that I haven’t remembered that I could until now. I suppose we’re rather lucky that I recollected it when I did, or else we’d be ash by now.”_

_“I’m so sorry. You were right.” Byleth apologised, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “I was too stubborn to quit, but you were right. I couldn’t hand it in the end, and I paid the consequences.”_

_“You need not apologise; I understand that your intentions were good. However, just please be more careful in the future. Now that I can rewind time, I might be able to help you out a bit more. But this ability is limited, so you can’t just go around putting yourself in life-or-death situations on the daily like that, alright?”_

_“Heh, I think you forget that I’m a mercenary, Sothis,” Byleth gave a sad smile towards the green-haired girl. She appreciated how much that Sothis cared about her, but she was never going to be somewhere that she was completely safe. If anything, after all these years, Sothis should have figured out that Byleth is a magnet for trouble. “It’s kind of in the job description. But, we’re a team, right? So, next time you tell me I’m acting stupid, I’ll listen to you.”_

_“You better,” Byleth would have never anticipated what Sothis was about to do next, until next thing she knew, she was in Sothis’s arms as she embraced the girl. “Or else I’ll make sure you regret it.”_

_Blinking in surprise, but knowing it was just Sothis’s unique way of showing her affection, Byleth raised her arms and returned the hug._

_“Thank you, Sothis…”_

* * *

"Byleth!”

Letting out a yawn, the girl grudgingly opened her eyes. She felt exhausted, however, as she replayed the events from the night before she let out a gasp as her hand reached for her chest, only to find the flesh unmarked. It appeared that Sothis had indeed managed to rewind the clock to the time when Byleth was waiting in bed for the opportunity to sneak out. However, she wasn’t sure if it was Sothis that had caused Byleth to lose consciousness out of fear of the girl doing something stupid, or if it was a side effect from being pulled back in time with the brutal injuries that she had received in her fight. Byleth supposed that the best solution would be to have to ask Sothis to turn back time at an occasion that wasn’t connected to any significant battle to see what sort of effect it had on Byleth.

“Byleth!” the voice called for her again, and she sat up in her bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. As her father walked into her tent, Astra close to his heel, she smiled at them.

“Hi, Dad,” she greeted, letting out a yawn. Her black-and-white dog barked at her, and she looked down at him. “And hello to you, Astra.”

“Ah, so you’re finally awake,” Jeralt said with a smirk on his face. “I’m not going to lie; I was half expecting us to have to toss you into the wagon as we travelled down the mountains since you seemed to be as unconscious as a… um… sloth?”

“I don’t think that’s a real expression,” Byleth informed him, raising her arms to stretch. After how much pain she had been in the night before after being subject towards multiple third-degree and fourth-degree burns, she would never complain about a muscle cramp again because it could be so much worse. Stupid fire…

“Well, you know what? It’s one now.” Byleth couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at her father, causing his smirk to widen. “Anyway, get ready. We’re heading out soon. Do you need any help packing up?”

“No, I think I got it. Where are we heading today, anyway?”

“Well, we should finally be reaching the edge of the mountains, so we’ll be going into House Ordelia territory.”

“Ordelia?” Well, that’s a name that Byleth has heard an awful lot lately. Letting out another yawn, she stood up and moved over to Astra, scratching him behind his ears. “Anyway, I think I’ve got it. Thanks, though.”

“Just try to hurry, I think that if Ronan has to spend one more night in the mountains, he might snap and kill us all with his magic mumbo-jumbo.” Letting out a hearty laugh, Jeralt left the tent, and Byleth felt a ting of pain through her heart. Another reason that last night went so bad was that she was fighting three long-range mages with nothing but a sword.

A lick on her hand pulled her out of her thoughts as she realised that Astra had stayed with her rather than follow her dad. She pulled the dog closer to her as she pets him, grateful to him for pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Hey, Sothis… what would you think about me learning magic?”

* * *

_The County of Ordelia, Leicester Alliance_

* * *

“At last, back to civilization,” Ronan breathed out, a small smile on his face as they entered Parry, a small town at the base of the Hyrm Mountains in the territory of House Ordelia.

“I’m honestly surprised you’ve kept with us as long as you have, Blondie, considering how much you hate the outdoors.” Alisha laughed at her comrade’s obvious disdain of the wilderness. “I thought for sure you would have left within the first two weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong.”

“Wow, seven years later and I finally manage to get a compliment from you?” Ronan faked shock. “Lisha, are you feeling alright?”

“What? Has it really been seven years?” Jeralt looked at them in surprise, before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow, I have lost track of time, haven’t I?”

“I mean if nothing else, the kid’s a good way to keep track of these sorts of things,” Alisha pointed out, holding a hand to her hip while turning to Byleth. “When I first met you, you were about this tall. Now you’re too my shoulder. How old are you now anyway, kid?”

Byleth blinked at the question, unsure how to answer. If she was honest, she hadn’t the faintest idea. Considering she remembered both Alisha and Ronan joining the mercenary group, she knew she was at least older than ten-years-old. But as to how much older? Well, that was a mystery in itself.

“Umm…” Byleth couldn’t come up with any concrete answer, so she just shrugged. “Young enough to be called a kid, but old enough to hold a sword.”

“Don’t know you, old man?” Alisha turned to Jeralt, with a curious look on her face. Jeralt just gave her a guilty look in return, and it became evident to the others that he hadn’t the faintest idea himself.

“Why don’t we hit the shops while we’re in town?” Jeralt suggested, quickly moving to the head of the group to direct the men as to what supplies they needed. Byleth felt a bit bad for her dad. She knew just how easy it was to lose track of time when you spend your entire life travelling, so she didn’t blame him for not knowing her age. She hoped that he didn’t think he was a bad dad for not knowing.

Maybe she could look around and see if she could find another who looked about her size and ask their age? It was worth a shot, and that way, it might make Jeralt feel less guilty.

“I’m going to take a look around while you guys check out the shops,” Byleth said, turning to Ronan and Alisha. “It’s a pretty small town, right? So, I’m sure we’ll be able to find each other no problem when it’s time to leave.”

“If you’ve got any issues finding any of us, I’m sure you’ll find Blondie in either the library or the bookstore,” Alisha said, nudging Ronan in the side with a bit more force than he was expecting.

“Ouch! Honestly, Lisha, must you always be so brutish?” Ronan complained as he rubbed his side. “But she’s correct, that is more than likely where I’ll be situated. Do you need anything from there or are you still working on our current lesson books?”

“Actually, I’ve been kind of curious about reason magic,” Byleth figured now was a good of a time as any to bring it up. “Wouldn’t suppose you’d be down to start including that into our courses?”

“Huh?” Ronan looked at Byleth in surprise, before his face light up. “Of course, I would be delighted! But may I ask what’s with the sudden interest?”

“Well, I’ve wanted to learn something long-range…” Byleth explained. She couldn’t tell him how she had nearly been killed by a group of mages and need to be able to learn better ways to protect herself from magic attacks, so she settled for another reason—an equally important one.

“If you wanna learn something long-range, I could always teach you how to use a bow and arrow,” Alisha offered.

“I think magic might be better,” Byleth insisted. “After all, you’ve seen some of my sword techniques. It’s a lot of acrobatics; I can’t imagine that would be very easy with a bow strapped to my back.”

“That’s fair,” Alisha agreed, recalling the last time that she fought with the girl, she frequently rolled out of the way to dodge incoming blows. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

With that settled, Byleth parted ways with the mercenary group with a promise to meet up with them in a few hours once their shopping was complete. The town itself wasn’t anything fancy, a simple stop to restock if you’re making your way from the Alliance to the Empire. Though most people preferred to avoid travelling through the mountains, there was still enough traffic to warrant a town on the outskirts. The town was honestly more at risk of being a target of bandits than anywhere within the mountains themselves. However, considering it was on a border between nations, the town supposedly had good guards to help maintain the peace, which is why Byleth found it so odd that she didn’t spot any guards during her exploration.

In fact, the reason she had wanted to explore was to meet other youths. But she hadn’t found a single child either. It was peculiar, and a bit concerning. Though the adults from the city greeted each other with a smile on their faces, she noticed that it didn’t quite reach their eyes, which more-often-than-not ended up glancing her way when they thought she wasn’t looking.

“Just what’s going on here…” she muttered.

“ **Byleth, I think you should return to the others…”** Sothis’s voice came out a lot more gently than she was used to hearing, causing her to stop in her tracks.

“Why?”

It was not even a split second later that Byleth got the answer to the question, as she saw two masked figures walking out of a nearby shop and into an ally around the corner. Byleth felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she took in the sight in front of her. One of the figures glanced over towards her, and she felt her stomach drop. They stared at her for a split second, before continued onwards, following their companion. There was no doubt about it; they were wearing the same masks that the men in the mountains were wearing. Just what the hell was going on here?

Byleth’s blood ran cold, and she couldn’t wait until they were long out of Parry.

* * *

_Garland Moon_

_Imperial Year 1174_

* * *

_The Dutchy of Goneril, Leicester Alliance_

* * *

It didn’t take long for Byleth’s wish to come true, as the mercenary regrouped not long after she had seen the masked mages again. They had decided to leave House Ordelia territory and make their way towards the County of Gloucester, through the Dutchy of Goneril.

“Apparently, there have been bandits giving the people in Sauin Village a hard time,” Jeralt explained as they made their way along the outskirts of Fódlan’s Throat. “And they townsfolk aren’t wealthy enough to hire anybody nearby to take care of the issue. They’re desperate for help, which is why we’re going to provide it for them.”

“Hang on a sec, old man,” Alisha interrupted. “If they’re not wealthy enough to hire anybody nearby, then I doubt they’re wealthy enough to pay us for travelling all this way to deal with a bandit issue.”

“I’m aware,” Jeralt informed her, keeping his eyes on the rough terrain ahead as he rode upon his new horse. One of the previous members had decided to part ways with the group a few towns ago but had given Jeralt his precious horse, Barbary, in exchange for everything that Jeralt had done for him. “But I owe the people of Sauin Village a favour from long ago, so I can’t exactly turn them down. However, you don’t expect me to force the rest of you to work for free, do you? I got another job lined up for cash, for anybody who would rather not volunteer to help me take down some bandits.”

“Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Ronan looked at Jeralt with his eyes wide as the gears turned inside his head. “Is this why we’re travelling along Fódlan’s Throat? And why you asked if I knew any Almyran?”

“Huh, I’ve got to say, I’m surprised that it took you as long as it did for you to put two-and-two together, Ronan,” Jeralt let out a chuckle. “Usually you’re on it. Don’t tell me you’ve been distracted lately?”

He gave a knowing look between Ronan and Alisha, causing both to start defending themselves vigorously. Byleth watched from a few paces behind with amusement as Astra followed her at her heel.

“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” Byleth asked, looking at Astra. The question, however, was directed towards Sothis. It was another positive to having a dog, Byleth realised, that she could talk to her dog out loud much more naturally than she could to the voice in her head.

“ **I believe that your father is implying that Ronan and Alisha have some sort of intimate relationship of some kind,”** Sothis responded, causing Byleth’s cheeks to turn pink as she made a face. She didn’t need that image in her head, but now that was the only thing that she could think of.

“Not that…” Byleth desperately tried to shake the thought from her mind. “I meant about the job. Do you think we’re crossing the border?”

Byleth didn’t know very much about Almyra at all, the most information that she had on it was the fact that is was the nation past Fódlan’s Locket. That was the extent that her knowledge went, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about the world outside of Fódlan.

 **“Crossing the border to where?”** Out of every response that Sothis could have given Byleth, that was _not_ the one she was anticipating.

“Wow, to think you know even less about Almyra than I do…” Byleth couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the fact that there was someone in the world who was less informed than she was. Though, she supposed it was understandable considering Sothis’s amnesia. However, it made her even more curious. Does this confirm that Sothis is indeed from Fódlan since she knows nothing beyond the borders? Or is Sothis only so well informed on the place they live because of Byleth?

“Hey, Dad,” Byleth picked up her pace (and as a result, so did Astra) to catch up to the others. “So, what’s the job got to do with Almyra?”

“You’re curious about the job?” Jeralt’s eyebrows raised at his daughter, half expecting her to just come with him to Sauin Village. “Well, we’ve been offered to escort a group of merchants to the capital city of Almyra so that they can sell their wares without worry. The King has supposedly been trying to increase trade between the two of us. However, bandits have been making it increasingly difficult, since foreign goods are difficult to obtain, they’re quite high value.”

“Which makes them all the more tempting to take,” Byleth concluded. “High risk, high reward.”

“That’s my girl,” Jeralt praised, taking one of his hands off of his horse’s reigns to ruffle her hair, causing her to laugh.

“If it’s alright, I’d accompany the others on this job,” Jeralt’s look of shock was an apparent one, and Byleth rushed to explain herself before he flat out denied her request. “It’s just I’ve never been outside of Fódlan, not to mention that I don’t know anything about the lands beyond Fódlan other than the names. And I know that we’re mercenaries, and we go where the mission requires us, but this might be my only chance to go beyond. What are the odds we get another job like this? And I’m also _really_ curious what it’s like.”

“As Byleth’s tutor, I also think that this would be a very educational experience for her,” Ronan came to Byleth’s defence, obviously happy the attention was brought away from Alisha and himself. “Not to mention the fact that I will be on this job and will be able to keep an eye on Byleth and her studies. Unless you would rather teach her how to apply mathematics in a practical setting such as battle?”

“Honestly, I feel like we need as much help on this job as we can get,” Alisha agreed. “You know how racist some of these bastards are; I doubt many of them will agree to come when they find out the specifics of our job. If anything, having the untainted eyes of the youth might get them to pull their heads out of their arses.”

Jeralt looked between the three of them, seeing their resolve was unwavering. He knew that Byleth never asked for much, and considering two of his most trusted comrades were going to be on this job as well; he couldn’t come up with a reasonable excuse to say no other than the fact that he was worried about his child. Letting out a deep sigh, he finally nodded his head.

“If this is what you really want to do, then I’ll allow it. But you must promise that you’ll be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if anything were to happen to you.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise,” Byleth agreed, and remembering how Sothis gained the ability to rewind time, she knew that she would be able to keep her promise this time.

“Then I suppose we’ll have to prepare you for Almyra once we meet up with the merchants, won’t we?” Byleth beamed up at her father as the words left his mouth, and he was glad that he said yes, if nothing else, because seeing that look on her face meant the world to him. He would do anything to keep her happy and keep her safe. But sometimes, you’ve got to choose one or the other.

Today, he chooses happiness. He just hopes that it’s the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 08/05/2020
> 
> This chapter was brought to you by 'One of THOSE Nights' by the Cab.
> 
> For anyone who's curious about the timeline, 1174 is the year that Jeralt takes on Leonie as an apprentice. It didn't make much sense to me that she didn't seem to know much about Byleth, so I figured it made sense for Jeralt to take her on while Byleth was on a different job. Hence: Byleth's misadventure in Almyra. 
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts <3


	4. World Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, crap…”
> 
> “What’s wrong?” the girl got up from the ground and dusted herself off, giving the boy a look in concern. “Do you need help?”
> 
> “It’s a long story! I-I’ve got to go!” Khalid frowned as he looked around for a way to get out of the bazaar. There were a couple of barrels sitting against the wall might give him enough leverage to climb onto the roof of a nearby building. It was at times like these he was grateful that most of the Almyran architecture had been designed to have flat roofs. With his escape route decided, he nodded to himself before turning back to the Fódlan girl. “Will you be here tomorrow?”
> 
> “I will, but I—”
> 
> “Great, see you tomorrow, Blue.”

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_iv. world away_

* * *

_Garland Moon_

_Imperial Year 1174_

* * *

_Madinalmuluk, Almyra_

* * *

“ _Watch where you’re going_!”

Khalid huffed out an apology as he dodged past another bystander as he ran through the crowded street, away from his pursuer. He was hoping that he would have lost them in the crowd, but the god of luck did not seem to be on his side.

“ _Get back here, Khalid_!” a gruff voice called after him, and he glanced back to Nader, who was closing in on him. He will admit that he might have gone a little far with his prank, but he had to test it out on somebody. However, testing it out on his combat instructor wasn’t his smartest idea, but he knew that the man would forgive him.

Eventually.

Probably after dragging the poor boy behind a horse again. Which was why Khalid was running—to try to avoid that punishment. Especially considering that some of his… _special_ revenge herbs got misplaced and ended up being fed to the horses by one of his family’s servants. And he would rather avoid being hauled behind a horse that was suffering from intestinal distress. The punishment was shitty enough as it was.

Slipping into an alley, Khalid knew that to avoid getting caught, he would have to be a bit more creative. Nader the Undefeated had his name for a reason, after all. But the fact that the man had never been bested in battle didn’t mean he had never been outwitted by the young boy.

Despite being the son of the king, Khalid never was one who just stayed inside the palace walls. He spent his days out and about exploring (and causing chaos) in the streets of Madinalmuluk. Because of this, Khalid knew the layout like the back of his hand. And this alleyway he was in just so happened to lead directly to the bazaar. And from there, he figured that he would have no trouble losing Nader in the busy market.

“ _Perfect_ ,” Khalid couldn’t help but smirk at seeing just how many people were out that day. Though it was usually bustling with people, there were at least twice as many present, which was the perfect distraction for him to slip away.

Navigating his way through the crowd was easy enough—his silk clothes differed significantly from the canvas fabric of most of the commoners, so any visitors to the city happily stepped aside to make way for the boy. However, the locals that knew who Khalid was simply scowled at him as he passed by. He learned how to ignore it long ago, though that didn’t mean that he was happy with how estranged he was from everyone around him. Regardless, he had more important things to worry about than their hatred.

Like avoiding getting dragged behind a horse.

Honestly, it was such a brutal punishment that he tried to avoid having to follow through with it at all cost. But today he refused to falter—he would not get caught. So, he had no choice but to give his all as he manoeuvred through the shoppers. He skillfully ducked behind a merchant’s stand to avoid getting caught up in the group standing outside a pop-up-stand looking at the wares. With any luck, Nader would think he was somewhere within the mob of people and end up getting delayed long enough for Khalid to make it to safety.

But things rarely go according to plan, Khalid is cruelly reminded, as he finds himself slamming head-first into a girl who was walking behind the stall, causing them both to fall into the ground.

“Ouch…” the girl mutters, causing Khalid to pull himself off her quickly. He was about to take off again, but he couldn't help but pause to give her a swift glance over. As he did, his eyes widen at the sight of her.

It was apparent she wasn’t from Almyra at first glance. Her fair skin was flushed pink from the summer heat, and her blue locks pulled back into a ponytail. If that wasn’t proof enough, then her clothing was the final indicator that he needed. The black tunic that she wore clearly wasn’t designed for such intense temperature since the long sleeves were pushed up to her elbows, and her shorts were unevenly cut. Khalid could only assume that she had cut the legs off her trousers to try to give herself a bit more comfort in the heat. Whoever she was, he would admit she was resourceful by working with what she had.

Khalid hadn’t realised that he was staring at the girl for as long until he noticed that her lips were moving and that he could understand the words that were coming out of them, despite them not being of Almyran origin. The expression on his face must have confused her, because she quickly faltered and came to a pause, causing Khalid to realise that he had better speak up or else she would think that he didn’t speak the common language of Fódlan, which he did. Despite only speaking to his mother and father in it, Khalid was fluent in it and honestly ecstatic that he finally might have a reason to use that skill.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Khalid asked, a smile growing on his face at his revelation.

“Wait, you understand me?” the girl was as stunned as he was, and he nodded excitedly, holding out a hand to help her up. She glanced at him, and at his hand, before taking it as he pulled her back to her feet.

“Yeah, I do! My mom’s actually from Fódlan. But this is the first time that I—” a voice calling out his name echoed in the distance caused him to stop in the middle of his sentence as he was pulled back to reality by remembering the fact that he was being chased. “Oh, crap…”

“What’s wrong?” the girl got up from the ground and dusted herself off, giving the boy a look in concern. “Do you need help?”

“It’s a long story! I-I’ve got to go!” Khalid frowned as he looked around for a way to get out of the bazaar. There were a couple of barrels sitting against the wall might give him enough leverage to climb onto the roof of a nearby building. It was at times like these he was grateful that most of the Almyran architecture had been designed to have flat roofs. With his escape route decided, he nodded to himself before turning back to the Fódlan girl. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

“I will, but I—”

“Great, see you tomorrow, Blue.”

And with that said, Khalid climbed up the barrels and pulled himself onto the roof, running off and jumping onto the next, hoping he was moving quickly enough to avoid being seen by Nader.

“What a weird boy…” Byleth muttered to herself as she glanced at the rooftop where he had vanished from. She hadn’t the slightest idea who he was, or where he went, but she would admit that he certainly knew how to make a memorable first impression.

A booming voice caught Byleth’s attention, and she turned around to see a large, angry man behind her, glaring up at the roof of the building the boy had just retreated from. Her body moved faster than her mind, and she found herself reaching for the sword at her side. She took a step towards the man, narrowing her eyes.

“Can I help you?” Byleth asked, watching the man cautiously. His attention was brought over to her as she spoke. He eyed her up and down before letting out a bark of laughter.

“Yeah, you can step aside so I can go after the little brat that went scurrying past you,” the man told her, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she unsheathed her sword and readied it.

“And if I say no?”

The man looked at her with amusement on his face, letting out another laugh before pulling out a sword of his own.

“Then we’ll see if I listen to you or not.”

* * *

After what felt like an eternity, Khalid finally stopped jumping rooftops and allowed himself to stop and rest. The sun was beginning to set, meaning that he had spent the majority of his day fleeing from Nader.

“I win…” Khalid congratulated himself as he flopped onto his back, glancing up at the stars that were beginning to appear in the sky. His thoughts flickered back to the girl he had met in the market, wondering what she was doing in Almyra. Khalid knew that his father had been promoting trade between the two nations as a sign of good faith. But that didn’t mean that many wanted to participate in it. Most merchants viewed it as suicide since there were a lot of individuals willing to kill for their goods. Maybe times were finally changing?

Though, that still didn’t explain why the girl was there. She seemed only to be a few years older than Khalid, and he doubted that she was a merchant. Though, it was possible that it was a family business and they brought her along instead of leaving her behind. That seemed a bit like lousy parenting, though, if Khalid was honest. This was the first time he’s seen foreigners in Madinalmuluk, and he highly doubted that it was just because they hadn’t bothered trying. The more believable option is they either got killed or threatened to leave before they had even reached the capital city.

The fact that they were here at all was an anomaly, and Khalid was excited at the prospect. Perhaps this would make the Almyrans see that the people from Fódlan weren’t that bad, and vice versa. Then they might finally stop hating him for existing.

The sky was nearly black now, and Khalid debated staying there for a while longer or heading back home. He doubted that Nader was still searching for him, but he could never be too careful. Hell, maybe the prince should just avoid going home until he was sure that the horses were no longer having stomach issues. Though, if he randomly vanished, he was confident his mother would worry, track him down, and tie him to the horses herself.

He ran his hand through his messy brown hair as he stared up at the stars. Sometimes he wished that he could be up there with them. Free from all the prejudices that he faced by being both half-Fódlan and heir to the throne. He just wanted things to be simpler. He wanted everyone to get along. He wanted not to be alone anymore.

A shooting star flew through the night sky, causing a shiver to go down Khalid’s spine. The things that he wanted were also the things that he had wished for, so whether the falling star was coincidence or fate was unknown to him. But he couldn’t help but close his eyes as he wished on it, hoping that it would come true.

* * *

Sneaking back into the palace wasn’t a difficult task. Khalid knew the guard’s post and where there would be openings for him to get through. It was both convenient and worrying, with how many attempts that there had been on his life in the past, he would have thought that security would be more vigilant. However, considering the nature of most of the Almyran people, a lot chose to go for the more upfront route. Though there wasn’t any honour in attempting to assassinate the prince, there was even less in doing it from the shadows.

It was stupid if you asked Khalid, but he was grateful.

He had almost made it back to his room when he heard a throat clear behind him. He stopped in his track, before turning around slowly. With luck, it wasn’t Nader or his mother, but instead one of the night guards tasked to protect him. Needless to say, she wasn’t the best at her job.

“ _You’re home awfully late tonight, prince_ ,” she scowled at him. Khalid was well used to her attitude at this point. It was bad enough when she first got assigned to him, but it just got progressively worse the more mischief he got into. He didn’t regret anything.

“ _And you’re awfully negligent tonight, Jasmine_ ,” he fired back, flashing her a cheeky grin. “ _If I would have been an assassin, we would both probably dead by now, don’t you agree?_ ”

“ _Tsk,_ ” she ignored his statement, _“where’d you get in from?_ ”

“ _If you can’t figure it out yourself, then you’re not very good at your job_ ,” without waiting for a response, Khalid walked into his bedroom and closed the door. He heard some curse words emerge beyond the other side of the door, and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the guard that he had successfully pissed off. She started it, after all.

Khalid hadn’t realised just how tired he had been, because as soon as he laid his head down on the bed, he was fast asleep, exhausted from the events of the day. It had felt as though he had just fallen asleep when he had awoken to his mother’s voice.

“Claude, wake up, sweetie.”

“Five more minutes…” Khalid groaned, rolling over to his side.

“No can do, _abnay,_ you need to get ready,” Tiana told him. “I already had the bath prepped for you.”

“What’s going on?” Khalid finally opened his eyes as he looked over to his mom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“We just got word that some merchants from Fódlan came all this way, so as a sign of good faith, your father is holding a feast to give them the proper ‘Almyran Welcome’, so you need to get ready.”

“Dad sure loves throwing feasts, doesn’t he?” Khalid sat up, stretching. Tiana laughed slightly and ruffled her son’s hair.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t enjoy every minute of it.”

“So, when are the merchants arriving?” Khalid’s mind flickered back towards the girl that he ran into yesterday, wondering if she would be among them.

“In a few hours,” Tiana told him as she moved towards the door. “If you’re not ready by then, I’ll let Nader punish you for that little prank you pulled on him yesterday. I swear you should have known better than to mess with that man’s weapons.”

“I just wanted to test out a little theory that I had on magnetism,” Khalid rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “But if you can convince him to let it slide, then I’ll definitely be ready on time.”

“Good,” was the only response that he got as she left the room, and Khalid let out a sigh. He had butterflies in his stomach from the thought of meeting so many people Fódlan. Considering that they came to Almyra to sell their wares, they couldn’t be too bad… right?

* * *

“Are you serious?” Byleth looked at Ronan in astonishment.

“I don’t know why you find that so unbelievable,” Ronan rolled his eyes at the girl. “If you recall, we were invited to a similar event back when we were in Fhirdiad a few years back.”

Byleth’s face flushed as she recalled the celebration the army had after they had returned from the war in Sreng. It was an extremely memorial night for her because it was the first time that she had been around kids her age, as well as the first time she had ever kissed a boy. She thought about them, now and again, thinking about how they’re doing. She wondered if she would ever see them again, and if she did, if they would even remember her.

“It’s not unbelievable, it’s just surprising,” Byleth explained. “After all, how many mercenary groups actually get invited to royal palaces.”

“You forget that most mercenary groups don’t have as virtuous of a moral compass as we do,” Ronan reminded. “Where most groups will do anything for money, we go based upon our ethics. It is commendable, you must admit.”

“I agree, but I don’t understand why this means I have to wear a dress,” Byleth looked down again at the clothes that Ronan had handed her. Though the pastel pink material was much lighter than what she had on, the concept of wearing a dress was one utterly foreign to the girl. Not that Byleth had anything against the formalwear, but she had never worn one before. Most of her clothing up until that point was comfortable and combat-ready. “We’re here on a job, aren’t we? I just don’t think that a dress is the most fitting thing to fight in.”

“Byleth,” this time it was Alisha who spoke up, and Byleth’s attention shifted towards the woman, “think of it this way. If you can master the art of fighting in clothing that others might not expect you to fight in, that will put you at a clear advantage in the battlefield. Think about it, which opponent do you think will be more challenging: the one in armour or the one in a dress?”

“The one in armour, obviously. They’re not exposed, so it’s harder to land a strike where it will hurt them.”

“Unless you use magic,” Ronan stated. “In which case they’ll be more susceptible to damage because they won’t be able to move as fast. Plus, imagine you specialize in lightning magic. Metal conducts electricity quite easily, so usually, it just takes one strong attack to kill someone in a suit of armour. There’s a reason you’ll find most mages wearing minimal armour.”

“So why do I have to wear a dress? Does it have to do with you teaching me magic?”

“You’re quick, which you’re going to need to hone when you’re casting. If you take too long to prep a spell, you’ll either be dodging an incoming attack or trying to strike down a moving target. Either way, it adds unnecessary challenge to the task at hand. Are you following me still?”

“Plus, it helps to be ready to battle no matter what you’re wearing,” Alisha added. “Don’t let being a warrior get in the way of beauty. Imagine in like ten years; you’re getting married. Your wedding day gets interrupted by monsters. Do you just stand there and look pretty, or do you fight despite what you’re wearing?”

They both had a logical point, Byleth would admit. It was a well-known fact that what Byleth lacked in size and strength, she made up for in speed and precision. When she got older, she highly doubted that she would wear heavy armour since it would just be something that would slow her down. However, despite the arguments that they made; she couldn’t help but feel as though this was just an excuse for them to get her in a dress. As if seeing her hesitation, Ronan spoke up.

“If nothing else, consider this your punishment for getting in a fight with one of the locals.”

“It wasn’t a fight!” Byleth defended, remembering her interaction with the man who was after the boy from the market. Though they did cross swords, she wouldn’t call it a fight that they had. If anything, it seemed more like a spar—a dual. He never attacked her directly, so she returned the favour. After all, her purpose was to buy time for the boy to escape. Her opponent, however, had just seemed to be testing her capabilities with the sword.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact she was from Fódlan? Though, she didn’t think that was it—as soon as he was tired of sparing with her, he sheathed his sword, complimented her footwork and went off in the opposite direction. Though she was happy that he was no longer pursuing the boy, she'd ended up with more questions than she had answers.

“Alright, you win, I’ll wear it,” Byleth said after a minute, before giving Ronan a pointed look. “But you better teach me magic that’s actually useful, okay?”

“Yes, yes. When we get back, we will determine which magic element you’re attuned to, alright?” Ronan clapped his hands. “For now, we must get ready. I would hate for us to give them a poor first impression by arriving late!”

“I’m surprised someone so bookish likes parties as much as you,” Alisha laughs, running a hand through her curly red hair. “But I suppose it’s been quite a long time since we’ve last been to one. Even if our primary objective is to protect the merchants, I don’t see why we can’t have a bit of fun while we’re there.”

“Exactly! And it’ll be nice being able to able not to have to translate all night—the queen is from Fódlan, so the entire royal family is fluent. Not to mention, I heard that they have a son around your age too, meaning that you won’t have to hang around us adults all night if you don’t want to, Byleth.”

Byleth was about to speak up and bring up the fact that she had met a few people yesterday who also spoke the same language as them but decided against it. She doubted that it would be at all relevant since she had no idea how many people were bilingual in Almyra. She could just hope that the prince was good company.

* * *

“ _Stand up straight, Khalid_ ,” the king instructed his son in their native tongue, the latter of which struggled not to roll his eyes as he did what he was told. With the feast prepared, and Khalid dressed in some of his finer silks—which were a mix of bright green and yellow—they were just waiting on their guests. They went all out for this event because the king had wanted to make a good impression on the merchants so that they might return to do business again, which Khalid understood completely. He wanted to leave a good impression on them, too; however, he didn’t understand why he had to have perfect posture in order to do it. Character alone should be able to speak for itself.

Then again, Khalid’s character was known to be quite the troublemaker. So perhaps it was in his best interest to focus on trying to come off as refined. Though, both of his parents were fierce warriors, so he had no doubt they would share some less-than-appetizing battle stories at the table to impress their guests.

Oh, gods, tonight was going to be a disaster.

“ _My lord, your guests have arrived_ ,” one of the guards informed the king, and Khalid could tell that he wasn’t pleased about having to pass the message. Khalid did not doubt that the number of Fódlians that were about to be in the palace unsettled the guard, and the boy was suddenly twice as excited that the merchants were here.

“ _Thank you for informing us, bring them in_.”

They waited in awkward silence as their guests were escorted from the front gates to the reception hall where the royal family stood in anticipation of meeting them. Khalid couldn’t help but fidget, while his father stood proudly with a smile on his face at the prospect of everything that this meeting stood for.

As the merchants flooded in, Khalid’s eyes widened when he saw a familiar blue-haired girl among them. Her gaze met his own, and he couldn’t help but smirk at the bewildered look on her face. She probably just assumed that he was just some street rat or something with how quickly he had bolted.

“Visitors,” the guard spoke in a very thick Almyran accent as he spoke to the foreigners. “May I introduce the royal family. King Sayidi, Queen Tiana, and Prince Khalid.”

The reactions of the merchants to seeing the King and Queen stood side-by-side was priceless. Khalid was aware that the fact that Almyra had a Fódlan queen was common knowledge, but it was something that most people seemed to forget about upon meeting her. Or maybe it was because his parent’s appearances were vastly different. His father was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. His bushy beard had appeared relatively unkempt compared to the many intricate braids he had adorning his head. Meanwhile, his mother was a petite woman, though her size shouldn’t fool you—she was an incredibly skilled fighter and a renowned archer. Her once fair skin was now sun-kissed and covered in freckles from spending her days under the hot Almyran sun, which paired with her golden locked, she looked almost angelic.

In terms of looks, Khalid had always been told that he took after his father. He had the same tanned skin and curly brown hair that he did. However, the boy had his mother’s bright green eyes, which he was thankful for. Though he stood out because of his eyes, he wouldn’t change them for the world. It was what connected him and his mom.

“Welcome, friends!” King Sayidi greeted, walking over to the nearest merchant and patting him on the back, nearly sending the unsuspecting merchant to the ground. “Now, who’s hungry?”

* * *

Dinner passed by surprisingly smoothly, all things considered. The only hiccup in an otherwise successful night was with the food. Most of the Fódlan merchants had not been accustomed to the Almyran dishes, so they weren’t entirely sure what they were ingesting. The majority gave their hosts the benefit of the doubt and tried a variety of dishes. However, they failed to realise just how spicy it was compared to most Fódlan meals.

Byleth couldn’t help but smile in amusement at the reactions of some of her fellow Fódlians. The faces of her companions turned bright red as tears started to form in their eyes as they dove for their drinks—determined to quench the heat burning their tongues. And then they repeat the process over-and-over to not seem disrespectful to their hosts. She had to give them props for their persistence at eating it, though.

Despite her attention being on the merchants, Byleth couldn’t help but notice that the boy from the market, Khalid, kept giving her glances from the other end of the table. Finally getting bored of watching the merchants, she turned towards the prince and raised her eyebrows at him. He gestured to the red pasta-like dish that was in front of her, causing her to inspect it. It seemed a bit soupier than most of the other dishes, with bunches of herbs and peppers mixed in with the noodles. Though it appeared to be innocent enough, she recalled that this was one of the dishes that was spicy enough to make the grown men around her start to cry, and she couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

He wanted her to try it.

She grabbed the serving spoon and slopped some of the red concoction onto her plate, before turning back towards Khalid. He nodded excitedly at her as she took a bite of it, and instantly it felt as though her mouth was on fire, however, she did her best to remain pokerfaced on as she stared back at Khalid, chewing it slowly for dramatic effect, causing the boy’s mouth to drop.

She wasn’t quite sure what she was trying to accomplish, but Byleth was fairly certain she won.

After dinner had finished and the actual celebrations began, Byleth wasn’t surprised when the young prince came running over to her.

“You’re the girl from the market!” he exclaimed, a wide smile on his face.

“And you’re the prince of Almyra,” Byleth teased, unsure if she should be speaking so improperly to a member of the royal family. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, though, so she continued. “When you said your mom was from Fódlan, this isn’t what I thought you meant. Then again, the conversation got ended way too fast.”

Khalid awkwardly laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, you know what they say about anticipation,” he joked. “But I’ll be honest; I didn’t expect to see you here. Or again, really. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy you’re here. It’s just hard to believe this is real—I’ve never actually met anyone from Fódlan besides my mom.”

“Really?” Byleth raised her eyebrows at that. No wonder they were celebrating. “Well, I’ve never met a prince before, so this is a first for both of us.”

“You don’t have to treat me like a prince,” he told her. “In fact, I’d rather you didn’t. After all, you’re not from here. So, if you look at it that way, we’re both just kids. We’re equals.”

“Equals?” that was surprising to hear from anyone’s mouth, let alone a prince. “Well, if that’s what you want then I won’t argue. So, does that mean I can call you Khalid or do you want a ‘Prince’ attached to that?”

“Khalid’s great,” he said a little too fast. “I mean, I _do_ have a Fódlan name, but that might get a little confusing, so Khalid’s fine—er, great, I mean. I said great last time, didn’t I?”

It occurred to Byleth that he was even more nervous talking to her than she was talking to him. She should have been more nervous, honestly, but she didn’t exactly see him as a big, scary, powerful prince. She saw him as the boy from the market, who was desperately fleeing from a frightening man. Who wasn’t honestly that frightening, come to think of it.

“I’m Byleth, by the way,” she remembered that she still needed to introduce herself. It was something that she was honestly quite bad at remembering to do. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Questions are free, but the answer might cost you,” Khalid teased, and Byleth couldn’t help but laugh a bit as she rolled her eyes.

“Why were you running away from that man in the market yesterday?”

“Oh? That? Well, you see… it’s a bit complicated.” Khalid bit his lip as he debated on what to tell her. As the prince contemplated, Byleth’s attention slipped from him and to the man who was walking in their direction. It was the same man that she had sparred with yesterday. The one that had been chasing Khalid through the market.

“Well, I hope it’s not too complicated because he’s coming this way.”

“Wait. What?!” Khalid whipped his head around to see the man heading towards them in full stride. He shrunk back into himself. “I’m so screwed.”

Byleth instinctively took a step-in front of Khalid, placing her hand on the hilt of her sword again as he neared.

“Relax, little spitfire. I’m not here for another fight,” he reassured, and Byleth couldn’t help but pout.

“It wasn’t a fight! It was a spar.” Regardless of what they considered it, Khalid’s eyes were wide as he stared at Byleth in amazement.

“What? You spared Nader?! When?!” The boy was utterly lost, looking between the two of them for an explanation.

“Yesterday after you ran off,” Nader said, putting a hand on both of their shoulders as he looked between the two kids with a big smile on his face, “it would seem as though the prince has found his knight in shining armour! Or rather, his mercenary in black cotton.”

“You’re a mercenary?” Khalid looked even more surprised at that revelation, and Byleth looked at Nader in confusion.

“How could you tell? I could have been a merchant.”

“I could tell the moment you pulled your sword on me. You have the heart and spirit of a warrior.” Letting out another laugh, Nader turned his attention to Khalid. “You ran into the right girl here, Khalid. I had nearly caught up with you if this one hadn’t blocked my path. When I tried to push through, she got in my way. There was no way I was getting passed her without a fight.”

“Is he telling the truth?” Khalid looked at Byleth for confirmation, and she felt her cheeks heat up as she turned her gaze away. She had no idea why Nader was telling him about this; she was just doing what she thought was right. She wasn’t looking for praise if that’s what this was supposed to be.

“She told me that if I wanted to get to you that I’d have to go through her first. I decided to put her skills to the test, but she seemed to be a worthy opponent.” Nader glanced back at Byleth. “You’re quite skilled with the sword. How long have you been practising?”

“For as long as I can remember,” she told them, her face still pink since she was not used to being the centre of attention. She shifted her gaze back to the prince in front of her. He had been looking at her like she was from another planet or something. “And I don’t think that’s exactly what I said.”

“Might as well have been,” Nader laughed. “After all, that’s what I took from the circumstances. After all, I stopped my pursuit after our ‘sparring’ didn’t I?”

“But why did you do that?” Khalid looked at Byleth as he tried to understand her actions, confusion evident on his face. “You don’t even know me, so why?”

“I don’t. But I wasn’t sure why you were being chased, but you didn’t seem like a bad person.” Now it was Khalid’s turn to blush, and Byleth couldn’t help but look at him in confusion now. Why would that embarrass him? She was just telling the truth.

Byleth concluded that she just needed to spend more time with kids her own age because she had no idea how to interact with them.

“You know, I’m Khalid’s combat instructor, but he’s never taken to the sword like that. His talent lies in archery, rather than hand-to-hand.” Nader’s comment seemed to snap Khalid out of whatever trance he was in because he huffed at the taller man.

“Please, anytime I practice any sort of melee combat with you, you down me before I even get a chance to strike. At least with the bow, I just have to hit my target.”

“There’s way more to the bow than that, and you know it. There’s no need to for you to downplay your strengths,” Nader shook his head slightly. “Regardless, the downside to being an archer is you also need to know another weapon for when enemies get too close to you. Something that I assume you know well, Byleth?”

“Yeah?” Byleth cocked an eyebrow, looking at the man in confusion. “It’s important to be prepared for anything.”

After all, that was why she was having Ronan teach her magic.

“And how long are you going to be in Madinalmuluk for?”

"Madinalmuluk?"

"Ah, you might know it as Kingstown." Because most people from across the boarder didn't know Almyran, they adapted the city name into their native tongue. However, the cities true name was Madinalmuluk among the Almyran people.

“What?” That was a weird question. “I don’t know. I guess we'll be here until the merchants finish with their business. Why?”

“Nader what are you—”

“It would seem that our dear prince isn’t too fond of my swordsmanship teachings, so I was wondering if you might be up for the task instead?” A wide smile was on Nader’s face as he looked between the two kids. Khalid instantly recognised the expression well; he was scheming. But was this payback for the prank or something else?

“I don’t know; I’m not much of an instructor. I’ve still got a lot to learn myself…” Byleth glanced between Khalid and Nader nervously. She didn’t have anything against the prince. She just wasn’t sure if she was skilled enough to teach someone something that could mean life-or-death one day.

“But that’s what makes it work out so well; you can improve your skills while you help Khalid find his own. Besides, I’m sure that you both agree that it’s important to be around others your age. So, think of this as killing two birds with one arrow.”

“If you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to,” Khalid assured Byleth. “I’m pretty sure Nader’s just trying to get out of work, after all—”

“I’ll do it. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be the best teacher, but I’ll try. Besides,” Byleth smiled at Khalid, “it’s been years since I’ve been around anybody close to my age. So, I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 08/05/2020
> 
> Chapter was brought to you by 'World Away' by Tonight Alive.
> 
> Also I AM SO SORRY I MISSED A WEEK. I've been sick as a dog, and haven't had a chance to edit it. I'm still sick, so if you see any typo's or word errors, please let me know. Hopefully, I'll be fully recovered by next week, but just had to let you know I'm not planning on making this a habit.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts! Especially now that Claude (well, Khalid) and Byleth have officially met.


	5. The Dragon Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Dragon Princess? Though that title is a great honour, I am afraid I must decline.” Byleth managed to stifle her giggles enough to pull a semi-passable frown to the ‘dragon’. “For I must admit the truth to you both: I’m not a princess, I’m an imposter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late. I know I'm late. I'm sorry I'm late. But in my defense, a global pandemic seems like a good excuse, right?
> 
> Also, I've adjusted a few things as canon updates, for example, they confirmed that Claude's mother's name is Tiana, and that his Almyran name is Khalid. Considering I was using Kalud before, I just altered the spelling. But can I get points for being *extremely* close. No? Okay.
> 
> Anyway, I'll try to get on a more regularly updating schedule, but I can't promise it'll be weekly. I'll aim for bi-weekly though. Sorry, loves, it's been a hectic time. Stay safe! <3

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_v. the dragon princess_

* * *

_Blue Sea Moon_

_Imperial Year 1174_

* * *

_Outside of Madinalmuluk, Almyra_

* * *

A month had passed since coming to Almyra, and the merchants weren’t anywhere close to wanting to return to Fódlan. Though almost half their wares had gotten sold, they had switched their focus on spending their time acquiring Almyran goods and discovering their purpose.

Despite it taking a while, Byleth wasn’t going to complain. In her eyes, the more time that she got to spend in the foreign country, the better. She had been able to explore the capital city and the area surrounding it quite intently. This was the second-longest she’s stayed in one place for—Fhirdiad still held the record for the longest. Though she knew that they were in two separate nations, she couldn’t help but compare the two capitals. They were vastly different—if Fhirdiad was the moon, then Madinalmuluk was the sun.

Byleth took her sketchbook with her and created several intricate drawings of things that she saw to show her father when they meet up again—from the unique architecture of the buildings to the people. She even had a few drawings of Khalid in there, not that she had any plans on showing them to the prince or her father. These were drawing that she had planned to keep.

It was Byleth’s way of keeping a memento from her adventures with him in Almyra before she would eventually have to return to Fódlan. These drawings were to remember the boy from the strange land, who became her first long-term friend. He was someone that Byleth didn’t want to forget, unlike she did with the children that she met during the after-war celebration in Fhirdiad. As much as it pained her to admit it, her memory of the event was hazy. Even though she could recall dancing with the children, as well as the red-headed flirt who had stolen her first kiss, that was about all her memory retained of the strange night. Their names, _their faces_ , had regrettably managed to slip from her mind.

She blamed the magic lessons with Ronan. He had been giving her so many books to read and things to memorise that she didn’t have time to focus on much else. Though, with her mentor’s help, she had been making decent progress in her magical prowess. She wasn’t as far as she would like to be, however, because she had to deal with the setback of being a fire user. According to Ronan, it wasn’t possible to change what element you were attuned with unless you’re an incredibly powerful user—even Ronan himself was limited to his wind magic. Thus, Byleth was forced to come to terms with the element she so despised.

Though fire was a useful element to control, she struggled to cast anything stronger than a simple flame. Whenever she tried, she would get reminded of the night she died—the night she _would_ have died if not for Sothis’s time-altering ability—and she ends up faltering and miscasting the spell.

Byleth had to give Ronan props for how patient he’s been with her throughout all of this. He had no clue about her misadventures in the mountains that fateful night, so he did not know her new founded fear of fire. She was trying to overcome it as fast as she could, but it was easier said than done. Though outwardly she had no scars of being burned alive, she still had the memories of it. Sothis told her that the best course of action would be to give it time, so that’s what Byleth was doing, which part of the reason as to why she was trying to keep herself as occupied as she was.

When she wasn’t exploring the capital or studying magic, she was with the prince. She had stayed true to her word at giving the prince swordsmanship lessons. During her explorations, she even found them a special place to practice, since Khalid seemed to prefer crossing swords anywhere besides the training grounds. Given the dirty looks that some of the knights gave the duo, she understood why he preferred to keep his distance.

So, Byleth took him to one of the more remote locations she discovered just past city limits, in a relatively grassy area compared to the rest of the city. The trees were plentiful, so they were protected from the harsh sunlight during the day. The first time that Byleth took Khalid there, they saw a wild wyvern flying overhead, and Khalid instantly fell in love with the area, officially dubbed the area “their spot”. Ever since then, they had been meeting up there so that she could teach Khalid swordsmanship.

Needless to say, she understood why the boy preferred archery.

To be fair, saying that Khalid was bad at swordplay would be a lie. However, he lacked the dedication and discipline that it would take to be remarkably good at it. It was incredibly clear to Byleth that Khalid was participating in the lessons because he had to, rather than wanting to. He preferred to spend the time joking and chatting with Byleth, rather than actually working on combat. Byleth had called him out on messing around instead of practising multiple times. It had eventually reached the point that if he joked around too much, she would just lunge at him with an attack and make him defend. He called this method cruel, she called it necessary practice, because he needed to take the lessons more serious than he currently was.

This was the primary factor as to why they were together today. Because of Khalid’s lack-of-effort when it came to basic swordsmanship technique, Byleth was tasked with giving him extra lessons in the way of the sword. Though it was admittedly a task that she had given herself, she took it as seriously as an order given to her by somebody else. So, they had begun meeting up every day in their spot so that they could train together.

Despite the excessive amount of time that they spent together, Byleth found that she didn’t mind at all. She wouldn’t complain if she had to spend even more time with Khalid since she had become rather fond of the young prince. Judging by how much time he spent talking and joking with her outside of training, she was assuming that he had felt the same.

Either that or he just really hated training.

“Your reaction time isn’t fast enough,” Byleth said as she swung the wooden sword at him with all her might, sending the sword flying from his hands as he attempted to block. Astra let out a bark as the sword hit the grass by him, getting up from his place on the ground and trotting over closer to a nearby tree before laying under the shade out of the way of the two training youths. Letting out a sigh, Khalid ran his hand through his wavy locks as he looked at his displaced sword.

“I thought the purpose of you teaching me instead of Nader was so that I might actually land a hit,” Khalid crossed his arms as he turned towards Byleth, pouting slightly, “but you’re just as tough on me as he is. Honestly, I think you might be worse…”

“Sorry,” Byleth shrugged before letting out a soft laugh at the expression on Khalid’s face, “I’ve got years of experience though. Not implying that Nader doesn’t, but he probably holds back on you since he’s an adult and you’re not. But you and I are about the same size; therefore, I’m not holding back.”

“Not even a little?” Khalid practically begged.

“For you? Hmm… no.” Khalid stuck his tongue out at Byleth, an action that she returned before walking over to the fallen sword and picking it up, making her way back to Khalid, who grudgingly took it. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you that you’re improving?”

“You think?!” Khalid’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Byleth had to stifle another laugh. She couldn’t help but love how expressive he was around her. It was a significant contrast to how he was with others—it was as though he was two different people depending on who he was. With her, he was open, expressive, but with others, he was reserved, always hiding his true feelings, even with his family. A part of Byleth always wanted to ask what it was that made her unique, but she always stopped herself before the words could escape her mouth. Though it probably was because she didn’t care if he was half-Fódlan and half-Almyran. She shouldn’t feel special about that; it was just common decency in her eyes. “… besides, I still haven’t been able to land a single hit on you.”

“You do realise that I’m a mercenary, right?” Byleth reminded him, a small smile lingering on her lips as she looked at the boy. “A single hit could mean the difference between life-and-death for people like me. I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s a pretty powerful motivator to give every fight your all.”

“I see. So, what you’re saying is I should pretend that you’re trying to kill me!” Now it was Byleth’s turn to pout, an action which caused Khalid to raise an eyebrow at her.

“I would never try to kill you.”

Khalid burst out laughing at Byleth’s declaration, before he put his training sword back in its sheath and ran towards Byleth, a look of joy on his face as he approached the girl. At this, Byleth gave him a questionable look, which just made him laugh harder.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before; you know that?” Khalid looked down at Byleth’s still withdrawn sword, causing her to give him a curious look as she sheathed it, causing the boys grin to widen further. “We should do something different today!”

“You’re not just saying that because you’re frustrated of me winning, are you?” Byleth teased, and Khalid shook his head.

“I’m not. Look, it’s been a month since we’ve met, right? I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you agree?”

“I mean…”

“Come on, Teach, when was the last time you had fun?”

Byleth wanted to argue with Khalid, but truthfully, she couldn’t think of anything ‘fun’ she did that didn’t involve a mission. Plus, looking at that hopeful expression the prince was giving her, she couldn’t find it in her to say no. He had been surprisingly dedicated to training that day…

“Alright, what did you have in mind?” she asked, internally admitting defeat at continuing their training. However, seeing Khalid’s face light up as he grabbed her hand, she knew she made the right choice.

“Just trust me!” with that, Khalid pulled Byleth along after him, and she fell in step with the shorter boy. “Come on, Astra!”

The dog got up with a “woof!” as he trotted after his owner and her companion. Khalid was shocked when Byleth brought with her dog on their first training session, and she explained that Astra kept getting into the merchants’ wares and needed a break from him. The young prince immediately took a shine to the dog, so she continued bringing him with every time she went to see him.

The two youths darted through town, narrowly dodging the unfortunate pedestrians that just so happen to cross their paths, causing several of them to curse them out in their native tongue. Though the amount of Almyran Byleth knew was extremely limited, she had a strong understanding on the various curse words that were often fired at her and the prince (usually it was whenever they were together, they never seemed to be aimed at Byleth when she was alone, at least not loud enough for her to overhear). Byleth didn’t know why they were in such a hurry, but she figured that she wouldn’t bother asking. After all, Khalid seemed to be moving with a purpose—whatever that purpose may be.

It wasn’t until they had reached an open amphitheatre in the northmost part of town when they had finally stopped, both out of breath. Even Astra seemed to be having difficulties moving at that point, promptly laying down in the shade by the bleachers with a huff. Byleth pulled out her canteen, taking a large swig before pouring some into a small bowl that she carried with her for Astra. The dog was obviously grateful as he moved up from his spot and towards the water, promptly lapping it up. She passed the canteen to Khalid, who happily took it.

“Thank you,” he said as he took a drink from it, passing it back to Byleth as they sat there on the concrete bleachers catching their breaths.

“This might be a stupid question,” Byleth started as soon as she had caught her breath, “but what _are_ we doing here?!”

“Ah, well…” Khalid’s energy seemed to be back already because he jumped up from his seat, startling Byleth. “Do you know the purpose of an amphitheatre like this?”

“Isn’t it because of performances and stuff?” the blue-haired girl raised an eyebrow. “If that’s why we’re here, we’re pretty early. After all, nobody is here beside us.”

“You’re both correct and incorrect,” Khalid smugly replied, smirking at the girl as he held out his hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her onto her feet with shocking strength. He ran down the stairs to the circular stage in the middle of the theatre with her in tow. “You see, there is a performance, and we’re the stars! Don’t you see the audience? Don't you hear their praises?!”

Byleth looked up at the bleachers, which were utterly empty aside from Astra, who was once again lying in the shade. She wasn’t quite sure what Khalid was talking about, but she figured that there was no harm in playing along, right?

“Wow look at them cheer…” Byleth hesitantly spoke, turning towards Khalid, who nodded at her as he motioned for her to continue. “They love you.”

“They love _us_!” Khalid corrected her, turning towards the make-believe audience as he held out his arms. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Come one, come all to the performance of a lifetime. This is a story about action and adventure, dragons and knights, love and death. This is a story that you will never forget!”

Byleth couldn’t help but wonder what story this was—it was certainly one that she hadn’t read. Maybe it was a local tale? No, it couldn’t be. He would be well aware that she wouldn’t know any of them. It was probably something that he was making up on the spot if she had to guess. She had no idea what she was supposed to do or say, maybe this was a bad idea, she would rather not make a fool of herself in front of her new friend.

Then again, because of Sothis, she had control over time. If she ended up messing up too badly, she could always attempt to rewind to the beginning of the performance. She still hadn't managed to gain any practice after the incident.

“My lady,” Khalid’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, “there have been supposed dragon sightings throughout the city. I fear an attack is inevitable!”

“A dragon…?” Byleth paused for a moment as she pondered her possible responses. She turned to Khalid, pulling the most determined look that she could. “Do we know for certain that it’s here to attack us? If it’s been spotted without killing those who saw it, it could be trying to get our attention.”

“But princess,” Byleth couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Khalid, the _prince, who had_ assigned the title of the princess to her. It was a play, sure, but it was still embarrassing. However, she decided that she would be better off not reading that into it. “Throughout history, it has never been recorded for a dragon to try to make peace with the humans.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” she said, sharing a firm but kind smile towards the boy. “We should send the troops throughout the city to assist the townsfolk’s retreat in case things go bad. Meanwhile, you and I should prepare to meet with the dragon as soon as possible.”

“If that is what the princess would like, I will agree, for I am but a humble knight.” Khalid bowed down to Byleth, taking her hand and placing a chaste kiss on the back of her palm. “I will accompany you to the dragons meeting, though I can’t guarantee that the rest of the court will agree with your plan. They want to show their power off, after all.”

“Violence only leads to more violence. It’s an unending cycle, and the only way we can put an end to these dragon attacks is too severe one of the links and form a new chain. A chain of peace.” Did that analogy make sense? Byleth sure hoped that it did, she wasn’t used to speaking so… _formally_. However, despite this entire exchange being make-believe, Byleth did have some truth to her words.

Growing up as a mercenary, she’s been surrounded by senseless violence and death. Though she didn’t mind her profession, she hated that it had to be a thing in the first place. They were usually hired to take care of bandits that the knights didn’t deem a powerful enough threat to deal with themselves. So, they were acting as the protectors of the people. Though she wouldn’t dare say she agreed with everything that they did, she knew that they tried to do as much good as they possibly could, all things considered.

“I agree,” Khalid replied, before letting out a sigh. “I’ll inform the court. Ready yourself for our meeting, and ready yourself for a fight, just in case.”

Considering how abruptly that they had decided to put on this performance, Byleth was quite surprised by how smoothly it was running. Khalid had acted out his meeting with the court as though it was something he had done thousands of times before. Unfortunately, the meeting had ended badly, with the courts dramatically rejecting the thought of making peace with the dragon, since it had "apparently" destroyed countless villages in the kingdom before then. This knowledge seemed to be a shock to Khalid, who claimed that he had never heard anything like that. However, with the courts adamant about declaring war on the dragons, Khalid and Byleth then had to “sneak” to the meeting in secret.

“This is where we’re supposed to meet the dragon?” Byleth enquired, looking around the still empty amphitheatre in confusion, before turning back to Khalid. “Does he know about this, or are we just supposed to wait until he arrives?”

“Don’t you worry, I can summon him…” after a momentary pause, Khalid looked towards Byleth and gave her a sad smile. “I bet you’re wondering how I know how to summon dragons, right? I haven’t been entirely honest with you… I am from a tribe that worships the long-forgotten dragons. We lived together in peace and harmony when I was a child, but unfortunately that didn’t last. Everything changed when the human kingdom attacked my home. Because I was a child, my life was spared. I was taken into custody under a knight as a squire. As for the rest of my family… they were killed for trying to protect the dragons.

“You were the first to show me kindness, princess, so I am forever indebted to you. I would be willing to die for you no matter what option you chose.” Khalid bowed down to Byleth again. “I will admit that I am thankful that today you chose peace instead of war. Unfortunately, I believe that no matter what we choose, there will be a fight on our hands.”

Byleth had to remind herself that they were just playing pretend as the words passed through Khalid’s mouth. However, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pain strike through her heart as she looked at the sadness in Khalid’s eyes. It seemed too real to be fake, at least entirely. If it was, then the kid deserved an award of some sort because he was an incredible actor.

Khalid let out a loud whistle, causing Astra’s ears to perk up from the bleachers as he hopped down the staircase to the two on the centre stage, letting out a bark as he sat down at their feet, looking between the two with his tail wagging happily.

“The dragon has arrived!” Khalid loudly declared, bowing down the Astra. Byleth did the same.

“Oh, mighty dragon. We are here to meet with you today under the prospect of declaring peace between our two species. May the dragons and the humans coexist in peace instead of fighting like children.”

Astra let out a bark at the two humans as he stood up and started chasing his tail, causing the two kids to laugh as they imagined the mighty dragon doing something as mundane as a dog.

“The dragon has agreed to your alliance,” Khalid told Byleth, struggling to keep his laughter contained. “He hereby declares you as the Dragon Princess—first human to bear the title.”

“The Dragon Princess? Though that title is a great honour, I am afraid I must decline.” Byleth managed to stifle her giggles enough to pull a semi-passable frown to the ‘dragon’. “For I must admit the truth to you both: I’m not a princess, I’m an imposter.”

“What?!” Khalid feigned surprise, placing his hand over his chest. “That’s impossible, I’ve known you for years!”

“You’ve known my doppelgänger,” Byleth told him, looking off in the distance. “I had stumbled across the princess one day when I was at the market in town. We switched places because she was sick of living the life of a princess, and I was sick of stealing to survive. I wasn’t in any position to decline, so agreed, and I’ve been disguised as her ever since. Last I’ve heard, she became a baker in the village to the north.”

“I can’t believe it,” Khalid’s look of shock looked genuine, and Byleth was reminded once again that Khalid was by far the better actor of the two. She would like to think that she was doing a decent job at least. She pulled herself out of her thoughts just in time to see Khalid shake the look of surprise off his face. He knelt down and bowed down to the girl before him. “It doesn’t change my opinion of you one bit. Our princess had long since abandoned us, so as far as I am concerned, you are my princess. The Dragon Princess.”

Byleth couldn’t help but feel a genuine smile creep onto her face at his words, which he happily returned. It felt as though they were having an actual moment together before Khalid broke it by pointing off into the distance, a look of horror taking over. Byleth turned towards the direction that he was indicating, only to see nothing out-of-the-ordinary.

“The court’s knights! They found us! They’re after the dragon!” Khalid exclaimed, and Byleth pulled out her sword dramatically.

“Over my dead body!” She declared as she engaged in an epic pretend sword fight against dozens of imaginary attackers, only for her and Khalid to be dramatically overpowered by their assailants. The battle ended with the duo laying on the floor—beaten, battered, and dying—as they were left to say their final goodbyes.

“It was an honour to serve you, my princess…” Khalid coughed out, “it was a shame that this is how things had to end.”

“You don’t… you don’t have to keep treating me so properly,” Byleth weakly replied. “I’m not your princess; I’m your friend. Though, I don’t think it matters now…”

“Of course, it does…” Khalid rolled over, letting out a mighty cry of pain as he did so before he took hold of Byleth’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “If I have to die, then I’m happy to have died with you by my side.”

“Me too. Until we meet again, in the next life…” Byleth and Khalid both closed their eyes, letting darkness overcome them as death took hold.

That is, until Astra hopped over to Byleth, licking her face causing her to giggle uncontrollably. Khalid sat up, looking over at Byleth confused as to why she had ruined such a dramatic moment before he burst out laughing at the scene before him.

“Well, that was fun,” he said, jumping to his feet. He turned to Byleth, holding out his hand to help her up. She accepted, and Khalid pulled her to her feet.

“Was killing us really necessary?” Byleth couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes, it made the play thousands of times more dramatic!” Khalid exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips. “After all, what’s a play without a little death and mayhem?”

“A play with a happy ending,” it was a serious reply, yet the response she got from Khalid was uncontrollable laughter, causing her to frown. “What’s so wrong with a happy ending?”

“Let’s be real; when does life ever have a happy ending?” Khalid wondered out loud, and Byleth looked at him sadly. She knew first-hand that there were rarely ever happy endings in the real world, her profession had taught her that, however, that’s what made happy endings even more special.

“You’re awfully pessimistic, aren’t you?” upon seeing the worried look that Byleth was giving him, Khalid stopped laughing as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly at his outburst.

“Sorry, guess the melancholy of the play was starting to get to me,” Khalid admitted. Before Byleth could get another word in, the boy lit up and grabbed Byleth by her hand once again. “I just thought of something else we could do today!”

And with that, they were off.

* * *

_Madinalmuluk Palace_

* * *

“Are these… fireworks?” Byleth examined the cylinder in her hand, weighing it gently. It was incredibly light considering its size, though she couldn’t help but chalk that up to the fact that it appeared to have been made of a stiffened paper, with a long stick coming out from the bottom.

“Yup!” Khalid told her, taking the tube from her hand and putting it into the large wooden crate that he was carrying.

When Khalid had told Byleth that he had something else they could do, she wasn’t sure what to expect. However, this was probably one of the last things that would have crossed her mind. Yet here they were, in one of the storage rooms in the palace, stealing fireworks. Though, if she was honest, Byleth highly doubted anybody would notice that they were missing. The room was filled from top-to-bottom with the explosives. She couldn’t help but wonder the safety of everyone who resided in the castle with so many of them in one place.

“No one will care that we took these, right?”

“Nah, us Almyran’s will find an excuse to celebrate anything,” he assured her. “In fact, on this day every year there’s a small festival—not a lot of people care too much about it outside of the palace—but some of the fireworks you see here will get launched tonight. If we do get caught by anyone who cares, then we can just say that we were moving them to the designated location or whatever.”

“But if they’re lighting off fireworks tonight then why are we stealing them?”

“Because this is more fun!” Khalid replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, picking up another explosive and putting it into the box. “Plus, I don’t really want to go to the festival tonight. I’d much rather celebrate with you.”

Byleth couldn’t help but feel her cheeks grow pink at his statement, as she turned towards another box of fireworks and searched through them, picking up a few that she hadn’t recognised yet and putting them in the box Khalid was carrying.

“What’s so special about today anyway?” she found herself asking as they continued looting.

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“Is that really so weird?” Byleth paused her search as she turned towards Khalid, who glanced back at her when he noticed her staring. “I mean, I am from another country. Isn’t it only natural to be curious?”

“Yeah, but I always expected it to be about things relating to Almyra and it’s culture. Not about me or anything relating to me.”

“So, the celebration today has to do with you?” Byleth asked, and judging by Khalid’s silence, her guess was correct. But if he didn’t want to talk about it, then she wouldn’t pry. “You do know that the reason I ask you so many questions about you is because I’m curious about you, right? You’re an oddity that’s seemingly impossible to figure out.”

“I could say the same to you,” Khalid told her. “I’m much more curious about you than you are of me, I bet. You’re a preteen mercenary, after all. You must have had a _much_ more interesting life than me.”

“Hmm…” on the surface, it would seem that they were in a stalemate. They both wanted to know more about one another, but neither of them wanted to be the first to give. Maybe they just didn’t view themselves as being interesting enough to be the topic of discussion? Though, that would be a lie. Byleth knew that she was particularly interesting thanks to the amnesiac spirit residing inside of her, but Sothis wasn’t something that she could just _talk about_. That was the main reason as to why she was always so hesitant when it came to talking about herself—she was worried she would slip up. But she knew that Khalid wouldn’t open himself up fully until she did so, so it seemed like she had no choice.

“Do you remember that thing that you say whenever I tell you that I have a question?”

“Huh? Do you mean the whole ‘questions are free, but the answer might cost you?’ thing?” Khalid asked, finally turning away from the stack of fireworks in front of him.

“Yeah? You always say that, yet you never tell me what the cost is.” Byleth always found the phrase strange, but she might finally have a solution for it that made sense. “What if the cost is an answer for an answer?”

“An answer for an answer?” Khalid looked at Byleth questioningly. The girl nodded as she picked up the fireworks that she had previously put down and moved them into Khalid’s box, taking the now full box from him and leaving the storage room, causing him to follow right on her trail.

“So, you mean if one of us asks the other a question, then we have to answer one too?” Khalid asked, falling into step with her.

“Yeah, that seems like the easiest solution, doesn’t it? I mean—wait—” Byleth came to a sudden halt. “I don’t know where we’re going.”

“Maybe I should lead,” Khalid let out a chuckle as he took the box back from Byleth and turned around, backtracking to the last corridor that they had walk past and walking down it. “So, who starts?”

“That was a question,” Byleth teased him, sticking her tongue out. “I’ll go. What is today?”

“The twenty-fourth day of the Blue Sea Moon.”

“I know that!” Byleth elbowed Khalid in his ribs, causing him to nearly drop the box. “I mean what’s so significant about this day, smartass.”

“Oh, well I doubt it’s anything that—” as Byleth moved to jab at him again, he leapt to the left to dodge her attack. “Ah, okay! Just don’t stab me with your dagger elbows! It’s my birthday, okay?!”

“It’s your birthday? And you didn’t tell me?!” Byleth crossed her arms at the young prince, who just shrugged sheepishly.

“It’s not like it’s that big of a deal anyway, the only people who care are my parents and the people they make care about it. Most of the rest of the kingdom would rather I just didn’t exist to begin with, so they don’t feel the need to celebrate it. I bet half of them are lamenting today anyway since their next king is going to be half-Fódlan.”

“Well, it’s their loss, you’re an awesome person no matter what you are,” Byleth told him, ruffling his curls as they walked. “If it’s your birthday, you need a present.”

Byleth fumbled at her belt and removed the sword that typically rested at her waist. It wasn’t anything that special—it was a silver sword that she had picked up a few months back in the Adrestian Empire. It was a bit better than the steel one she had back in the merchant camp, but it was _much_ better than the wooden one that Khalid currently had. She held out the sword to him, who just looked back in shock.

“Happy birthday,” she said, setting it in the box of fireworks.

“I can’t take this; it’s yours!”

“You can; I have another one back at camp. Besides, it’s your fault for not telling me it was your birthday.” Byleth looked at Khalid questionably. “How old are you now, anyway?”

“I’m twelve,” Khalid told her, before glancing her way. “What about you?”

“I don’t know…” Byleth told him, fidgeting awkwardly. “My dad’s been travelling with me since I was a baby, doing mercenary work and whatnot, so he’s always been on the move. Living a life like that, you don’t keep track of dates very well.”

“So, wait—you don’t even know your birthday?” when Byleth shook her head, Khalid’s mouth dropped. “Well, you know what? Your birthday is now today!”

“Huh? It can’t be! Today’s your—”

“Do you have any proof that it’s not today?” Khalid enquired, cutting her off.

“No, but—”

“You can’t argue with me about this, By,” he told her, giving her a devious grin. “Besides, if I give my parents the excuse that I was out today spending your birthday with you, they’re more likely to forgive me from skipping out on my own birthday celebration.”

“There’s no changing your mind, is there?” Byleth sighed, defeated. They had finally left the palace walls and hadn’t been stopped by anybody yet, so she assumed they were in the clear with all the fireworks that they stole. “Where are we going?”

“Our spot,” Khalid told her. “By the way, that counted as a question. Do you like being a mercenary?”

“That’s an… odd question.” Byleth raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Considering a career change from being a prince?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Khalid laughed. “Pleasing the courts isn’t how I want to spend my days.”

“I knew there was a reason you made them the villains in our play!” she exclaimed, laughing along with him. “And I don’t dislike being a mercenary. I mean, I was never really given a choice in the matter. It was either joining in on the fun or sitting around on the side-lines and let everyone else take care of me my entire life. And that is one thing that I would never be able to do. Besides, compared to a lot of mercenaries, my group had pretty good morals. No price is high enough for us to cause harm to innocents, we try to protect the people as much as we can, wherever we go.”

“You’re like vigilante knights!” Khalid exclaimed, causing Byleth to give him an awkward smile.

“I guess…” she had never thought of it like that before, but she supposed he was right. Though they didn’t follow a kingdom or a goddess, she could see the similarities to them and the knights. The mercenary group just didn't have such strict guidelines. “Do you like being a prince?”

“Not really…” Khalid admitted, his previous happy demeanour taking more of a melancholy one. “It doesn’t matter much if I like it or not; I’m their only child. As much as I wish I could just run off and ignore my responsibilities, I would always know that one day I would have to come back and take over for my father. Luckily, I don’t think my father has any plans of dying yet, so that’s not going to be for a long time yet.”

“That must be rough,” Byleth frowned. “Having your whole life planned out for you like that.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, all things considered, I’ve got quite a lot of freedom. Besides, I’ve got plans on exploring the world before I become king. It’s what my dad did when he was in his twenties—he went to Fódlan, and it was there where he met my mom, and they fell in love. She even decided to come back to Almyra with him. You must imagine, my grandfather was _not_ happy. He kept going on about how my dad shouldn’t pursue my mom because she was from Fódlan. He had a lot of very negative things to say about my mother. Little did he know, she has a talent for picking up languages, so she understood everything he saw saying about her.”

“Holy crap, what did she do?” Byleth couldn’t even imagine how she would have felt if she was in the queen’s position. Judging by what she’s learned so far, a lot of Almyran’s weren’t particularly fond of people from Fódlan.

“She punched him, of course.”

“Your mom punched the king?!”

“Yup! There’s a reason she has the nickname ‘the Demon Queen’. She’s got a temper that no man can match. After her fight with my grandfather, he had managed to gain a fair amount of respect for her. Enough to give her and my father his blessing, at least.”

“That’s insane; I’m happy that worked out for her. I’ve heard similar stories that ended in exile or execution.”

“That’s what my parents’ thought was going to happen too, at least, until my grandfather started laughing. He had an odd sense of humour, so in his eyes, it was just her proving she was worthy of my father.”

They asked each other a few more questions here and there as they made their way to their spot, setting down the box of fireworks as they looked up at the setting sky. It was almost nightfall, so the go got to work setting up the fireworks to fire them off in celebration.

“You know, if we manage to light these off first, then the castle might take that as a signal that it’s time to light the others and we’ll have a great view of the firework festival.”

“And you’re sure your parents won’t be mad that you spent your entire birthday away from them?”

“Why would they be? I spend it with them every year; I’d be lucky if I got to spend this day with you ever again.”

It was sad, but the boy did have a point. They both knew that her stay in Almyra was only temporary, as soon as the merchants completed their business, she would vanish. She would be heading back to Fódlan. As much as she liked Khalid, she couldn’t stay. She had to get back to her father. Not to mention that Khalid had to continue his princely duties. The time they had left together was unclear; it could be a week, it could be in another few months. The only thing that was for certain was that the more time that they spent together, the closer they got. And the closer they got, the harder it would be to say goodbye.

Both youths knew this, and yet neither of them made any notion of trying to distance themselves. This was the first major friendship that either of them had, and they didn’t want to end it before they had to.

They watched as the sky grew darker in comfortable silence, as Byleth made her way over to the first firework of many. Using her magic, she created a small flame in her hand, glancing over to Khalid, who nodded at her. It was time.

She released the flame and lit the fuses. They both took a few steps back as the fireworks shot up into the sky, exploding into a sparking blast of light in the air above them, the smell of smoke surrounding them. And for the first time in a long time, Byleth didn’t panic at the scent. Maybe this new memory involving fire would help her eventually forget about her previous one, given enough time. She looked over at Khalid, who had a wide smile on his face as he looked up at the sky. His happiness illuminated with the lights of even more fireworks, coming from the direction of the palace. The prince had been right, their fireworks had set off a chain reaction, and now the entire sky was alit with displays of beautiful explosions.

Khalid turned towards the blue-haired girl; his smile illuminated in the darkness as he took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Happy birthday, Byleth.”

“Happy birthday, Khalid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 08/05/2020


	6. White Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There you go! Let the fire inside of you ignite—have it fuel the flames you’re creating on the outside!” Ronan clapped his hands together in excitement as he watched his student in joy.
> 
> “I can see why you’re not usually on the front lines in a fight—you speak way too much!” Byleth told her as she used her flames to boost her into the air. “It distracts you, one wrong move and…”
> 
> Byleth hadn’t bothered using her magic to win the fight, deciding instead to use her weight as her advantage and she crashed onto Ronan, sending him falling to the ground as she pulled her sword out of her sheath and pointed it at Ronan’s neck.
> 
> “I win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part one of two.
> 
> By that I mean when this chapter reached 10,000 words and I realised I wasn't anywhere close to being done, I decided to split it in two. Therefor, part two will be out tomorrow. So (sorta) double update? Yay!!!!
> 
> Please remember to kudos and comments <3  
> I'm especially curious about everyone's thoughts and reactions to these next few chapters.

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_vi. white feathers_

* * *

_13 th day of the Pegasus Moon_

_Imperial Year 1174_

* * *

_Merchants Camp_

_Madinalmuluk, Almyra_

* * *

Byleth watched the snowflakes dancing in the sky as she loosened the cotton scarf around her neck, saying goodbye to the warmth it had been keeping in as she let it drop to the ground. The flames in the nearby fire had long since gone cold since no one had been tending to them. But Byleth wasn’t bothered, she was plenty warm as it was. At least, for the time being.

The crisp winter air was a sharp contrast to the hot, humid weather of the summer, which reminding Byleth of just how long she and the caravan had been in Almyra for. Though the merchants had long since sold the last of their wares, they were exceedingly interested about what the Almyrans could provide throughout the different seasons. And thus, summer became autumn, and autumn became winter. Yet they still they remained in the foreign land.

Byleth was far from stupid, despite not having had a formal education. She knew that her time was coming to a close in the country. After all, the merchants now had extensive knowledge on everything related to selling and trading in Almyra. They knew what times were best for them to come back, what to bring, and what to buy. They now had wares that Byleth had never seen before (and they hadn’t bothered explaining) that they were taking back to Fódlan. Admittedly, Byleth hadn’t thought to ask what everything was. Once upon a time, she would have. But as of late, she’s been too preoccupied.

“Eyes on me!”

Her attention was snapped back to the task at hand as she heard her opponent yell, the snowflakes changing direction as the mage before her used a spell to send a powerful blast of wind her way. She leapt up into the air, using her fire magic as a boost behind her as she pushed through the gale and towards Ronan. With how much she had been moving and casting, she did not need her scarf or the nearby fire. Not until the fight was over, at least.

Ronan had been adamant on training her in magic when she wasn’t teaching (at least attempting to teach) Khalid swordsmanship. So far, her lessons had been going far better than the young princes, but she chalked that up to having a more skilled teacher than he did. Ronan had spent the last few months teaching Byleth other ways to use magic in a fight—it didn’t have to all be offensive. So, Byleth had been learning how to use her fire spells to propel herself forwards, increasing her movement in addition to using it to defend herself.

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to catch me off guard!” Ronan taunted, easily dodging the bolt of fire that Byleth had launched at him.

“Say what you will, it’s not like you’ve been able to land a hit on me either!” she teased, leaping back as Ronan sliced through the air in an attempt to hit her. Though he had years of experience on her, she was far more agile.

“That’s because I’m going easy on you!” as if to emphasise his point, he sent a whirlwind her way. She decided to use the gust once again to give her momentum, flying up in the air and sending another blast of fire his way, which were smothered by the strong winds. She used the momentary distraction though to nosedive towards Ronan with her fist raised.

“You’re such a fucking liar, Ronan,” Byleth declared as her fist made contact with Ronan’s shoulder, causing him to groan and stumble back. If she had been trying to injure him, she would have aimed at his face rather than his shoulder. But it was training after all.

“Language!” Ronan scolded as he rubbed his now bruised shoulder. “Need I remind you that this was supposed to be magic lessons and not fisticuffs…”

“Fisticuffs?” Byleth burst out laughing at Ronan’s choice of words. “You’re such a dork! Who even refers to fist-fighting as ‘fisticuffs’? It’s such a stupid word!”

“You’re too young to understand,” Ronan rolled his eyes at Byleth, casting another gale at the bluenette, causing her to fly backwards and land on her back.

“Ow!” Byleth moaned, rubbing her backside as she sent Ronan a glare. “Rude.”

“Ha!” Ronan gave her a mischievous smile. “I had told you I was going easy on you!”

“Yeah? Well, you know what? So am I!” Byleth jumped back to her feet as she launched herself at Ronan, sending a blast of fire at him, which he dispensed with his wind.

“There you go! Let the fire inside of you ignite—have it fuel the flames you’re creating on the outside!” Ronan clapped his hands together in excitement as he watched his student in joy.

“I can see why you’re not usually on the front lines in a fight—you speak way too much!” Byleth told her as she used her flames to boost her into the air. “It distracts you, one wrong move and…”

Byleth hadn’t bothered using her magic to win the fight, deciding instead to use her weight as her advantage and she crashed onto Ronan, sending him falling to the ground as she pulled her sword out of her sheath and pointed it at Ronan’s neck.

“I win,” she smugly said as she withdrew her sword from Ronan, getting off him and offering him a hand to help him up.

“And the student beats the master! Exceptional job, Byleth.” Ronan praised the girl as he took her hand, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. “Now, did you notice what I did wrong?”

“You were too busy speaking to pay attention to my movements?”

“No!” Byleth gave him an amused look, causing Ronan to cough and corrected himself. “Oh, well, technically yes. But what else?”

“Not dodging?” Byleth teased, and Ronan flicked her forehead.

“I underestimated my opponent. Because you’re such a novice mage, I was expecting this encounter to be heavily weighted in my favour. However, you managed to prove me wrong. I must admit, I’ve never expected to teach you magic in any form other than theoretical—where did this sudden passion for the form come from?”

Byleth paused to think about it. The primary reason that she wanted to learn magic was after she had ‘died’ from those masked mages in the woods. The second one had been because she hadn’t had any long-range offensive capabilities, which greatly handicapped her in a ranged fight.

“Well…” how would she phrase this in a way that wouldn’t make her sound like a lunatic? “I realised I couldn’t solve all my problems with a sword alone.”

“ **I mean if you want to get technical, you’re not lying. It is physically impossible to solve all your problems with a sword. After all, a sword cannot do mathematics, can it?** ”

Byleth couldn’t help but jump at the sudden voice in her head. Though she was well used to it at this point, usually Sothis only spoke up when they were alone, rather than when Byleth was in the middle of a conversation with somebody else.

‘ _Sothis? Don’t scare me like that!_ ’ she chided.

“ **Startling you was not my intent, I assure. However, your comment reminded me… weren’t we supposed to meet with the prince today?** ”

“Oh, no!” Byleth’s eyes widened as she pulled out her pocket watch, a gift Ronan had given her long ago to stop her from continually showing up late to lessons. It didn’t help, but Byleth appreciated the attempt, nonetheless.

“Byleth, are you alright?” Ronan enquired, raising his eyebrows curiously at the young girl. “You seemed in another world there.”

“I’m late!” Byleth cursed as she helped Ronan pack up their thing from lunch to take back to the main mercenary camp. Whenever they went to do magic lessons, they always went to a location a reasonable distance away from their usual camp to avoid any collateral damage.

“Pardon?”

“I was supposed to meet with the prince hours ago for swords training! I completely forgot!” Byleth explained, tossing her bag over her shoulder as she grabbed handfuls of snow to smother any hot embers that might remain in their campfire.

“Ah, so you’ve been keeping your student waiting.” Ronan put his hands on his hips as he looked Byleth up and down, shaking his head disapprovingly, Byleth stuck her tongue out at him in response, which put a smile on his face. She hadn’t realised it, but the more time she spent with the prince, the more she began to act her age. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was happy about that. “Tsk, tsk. I thought I raised you to be a better teacher than that.”

“Oh, haha,” Byleth rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not his teacher; I’ve just been training with him. And if I’m being honest, I haven’t even been doing a very good job when it comes to that.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s barely made any progress when it comes to fighting.” Byleth let out a sigh as she ran her hands through her blue locks, trying to figure out how to explain sword fighting to someone who’s expertise is in the art of magic. “His technique is good and all, but when it comes to actually striking, he hesitates. It doesn’t matter how good your technique is if you’re afraid to attack.”

As much as it sucked for Byleth to admit it, she wasn’t a good teacher. Either that or Khalid wasn’t a good student. Though, if she had to be honest, she would chalk it up to be an unfortunate combination of both. They’ve been in Almyra for months, yet their progress had been minimal. Learning took time; she had been aware of this from her own experiences. But every time she went had the intention of training Khalid, the boy had nearly always managed to distract her from the task at hand. So, instead of crossing swords, she more-often-than-not ended up finding herself doing random shenanigans with him.

“Everyone learns at a different pace. Need I remind you how hesitant you were when you first started training with magic?” Ronan reminded her, and she let out a sigh. She was hesitant because she was _afraid_ of fire. But she had been working to conquer her fear and had been making gradual progress with overcoming it.

Khalid had, however, no fear of swords. At least, not one that he had ever admitted to her. If anything, it seemed like there was always something else that he would instead focus on than his sword, though Byleth wasn’t quite sure what it was. She would think that it was going beyond the castle walls, but from their very first meeting, Byleth knew that was something that Khalid did on the regular anyway.

He was a weird boy; she would give him that.

“I know, and I’m trying the best that I can to be patient with teaching. But it seems as though Khalid would rather stick with archery than sword fighting. And if that’s the case, then I wish he would just tell me rather than torture himself doing something that he hates.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that he’s just using it as an excuse to spend time with you?” Ronan asked, giving Byleth a knowing look, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

Had the thought crossed her mind? Yeah, it had. Several times, in fact. However, every time that it had crossed her mind, she had written it off as hopeful thinking. After all, you can’t be disappointed if you had no expectations in the first place.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Byleth told her teacher, who just gave her a look of disbelief. “Anyway, do you mind bringing this stuff back with you to the camp? I did pack it all nice and neatly for you…” Byleth gave Ronan the sweetest smile that she could muster, and the blond man sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You drive a hard bargain, but I suppose I have no choice to accept. After all, we wouldn’t want you to be any later than you already are. Speaking of… just how late are you?”

Looking at her pocket watch again, Byleth cursed when she saw the time.

“Very! Thanks, Ronan! You’re the best!”

“And don’t you forget it!” Ronan replied with a laugh as he watched Byleth sprint off. “Goddess, that girl is a dense one, isn’t she?”

* * *

_Outside of Madinalmuluk, Almyra_

* * *

By the time that Byleth had reached their spot, she was astonished by the fact that she appeared to have been the first one to have arrived, despite being nearly an hour late to training herself.

Byleth and Khalid had an unspoken rule that they would wait for at least an hour without the other before they went to search them out. Individually, they were both busy people who had more-than-once gotten delayed by various things regarding their average day-to-day life. Byleth had her lessons with Ronan, as well as helping the merchants and exploring the city (though admittedly the last one was much more fun with Khalid with her). Khalid, on the other hand, was a prince. That title alone was one that required a lot of dedication, even if it was one that he hadn’t exactly sign up for. Though they tried their best to stick on schedule, there were the occasional setbacks. It didn’t happen very much, but it wasn’t that big of an issue when it did (save for a bit of teasing).

So, for Khalid to be even later than Byleth was had been highly unusual. She hadn’t passed him at all on her journey there, and she knew the exact path that he always took to the merchant’s camp. So, unless he had ended up getting chased by a few random villagers and had to take a detour, she would have seen him.

“Has he even been here yet?” Byleth couldn’t help but ask herself, looking at the undisturbed snow on the ground. The only footsteps leading there had been her own. Unless Khalid had arrived long ago and left immediately after, there was no possibility that he had been there.

“ **There is always a chance that he could also be running late,”** Sothis offered. “ **After all, from what I understand, snowfall isn’t a thing that happens very often here. The palace is, no doubt, in utter disarray.”**

“I suppose you’ve got a point,” Byleth replied, recalling having seen the Almyran street merchants in a frenzy that morning when the snow had begun to flutter downwards through the sky as they rushed to move their wares somewhere safe and dry. Though it wasn’t a very heavy snow, she knew that it was enough to cause people to panic—it was something that they weren’t used to and therefore didn’t know how to react calmly and rationally.

Taking a seat down next to their tree, Byleth decided that she would wait a bit longer to see if Khalid would show up. Hell, maybe the prince just adamantly hated the snow and refused to leave the palace. Though it was something that she highly doubted, she couldn’t rule it out as a possibility. The more probable reason, however, was that there was some sort of snowfall tradition that his parents did, and he got roped into before he could sneak away.

So many possible scenarios passed through Byleth’s head as to why the prince was late, and she could help but laugh at half of them. Reaching into her bag, she decided she should distract herself with something else for when the prince actually did show up. She would hate to admit to him the reason she was laughing was because she imagined him and his mom turning the king into a living snowman.

Byleth pulled out her journal, as well as a quill and ink. Usually, it would be her sketchbook that she pulled out. However, the journal had been a gift from the prince. He said he got it at the market from a ‘witch lady’ and that its primary purpose was to preserve memories. Khalid had given it to her a few days after her and the prince’s shared birthday. She insisted that he didn’t need to give her a present since it wasn’t her actual birthday, but he was insistent that was now officially her birthday by royal decree. Byleth tried to argue that excuse wasn’t going to work since she wasn’t a citizen of Almyra but arguing against Khalid was a lost cause at this point. If she had managed to get past the boy’s wit and charisma, she would always give in to the cute look that he would give her.

It wasn’t fair, in her opinion. But then again, when was life ever fair?

Looking at the journal, she traced her hands along the intricate grooves engraved on the cover of the book. The lines weren’t in any particular arrangement, at least, not one that she recognised. However, she found the flow of the lines very soothing when she traced her fingers along them. Opening it up, she reread the two entries that were inside of the journal for what had to be the hundredth time.

* * *

> _Day 26 of the Blue Sea Moon, 1174_
> 
> _Happy Birthday, Byleth!_
> 
> _Sorry it’s late (and not nearly as cool as a sword!) but it’s the thought that counts… right? Plus, I figured that you could use this to help you keep a record of your AMAZING life! I got it from a witch, or at least, that’s what she claims. I’m not entirely convinced yet, so you’ll have to let me know if you discover anything strange about this journal. According to the old lady, it’s supposed to preserve your memories or something. But… that’s also kind of the point of a journal, right? I’m a bit sceptical about the whole thing if I’m being honest. So, I bet you’re wondering “If Khalid didn’t buy into the witch’s bullshit then why did he get me this?”_
> 
> _Honestly, I can’t answer that in a simple way. All I know is that when I first looked at this, it reminded me of you. So, I hope this reminds you of me too._
> 
> _I’ll be honest, I’m not naïve enough to think that you’ll stay in Almyra forever… I know that you’ve got people to get back to in Fódlan. And it’s going to suck when you end up leaving, but I promise you that this isn’t anything more than a “see you later” for the two of us. I want you to use this journal to write down everything that you think is cool, or interesting. You can even draw in it too! Because when we meet back up, I want to know what I missed out on._
> 
> _Just don’t do anything too cool without me!_
> 
> _Yours always,_
> 
> _Khalid_

* * *

> _Day 3 of the Verdant Rain Moon, 1174_
> 
> _~~Dear Diary,~~ _
> 
> _~~I’ve learned more about fire magic. I think I might be on the right track to getting over my fears.~~ _
> 
> _I don’t know what to write._

* * *

She couldn’t help but sigh as she looked at her previous entry. It was awful; she knew that for a fact. But she hadn’t ever had a journal before. There was no need for one when she could express what she had felt and seen through her sketchbook. Though she supposed this was basically a glorified version of that, so it shouldn’t be too difficult in theory. And now was as good as a time as any to make a proper entry. So, she opened her jar of ink (impressed that it hadn’t frozen because of the temperature) and dipped her quill, hoping the words would come to her as she wrote.

* * *

> _Day 13 of the Pegasus Moon, 1174_
> 
> _Our time in Almyra is coming to an end soon. I’ve heard the merchants talk, there isn’t much left for them here for the time being. I must admit, it will be weird to be back in Fódlan after spending so much time away. We’ve been here for about eight months, after all. I’ve actually started picking up on some of the language, too._
> 
> _I’ve got to admit, I’ll miss Khalid though… I wish I could bring him back to Fódlan with me, I have a feeling he’d love it there. But I know that’s impossible, he’s a prince. He’s supposed to be here, so I can’t steal him away no matter how much I want to._
> 
> _Speaking of Khalid, he’s unusually late for our training. I’ve been sitting here for the better portion or two hours waiting for him… the sun is close to setting now. Sothis says that there was a pretty probable chance that people in the palace were dealing with the panic because of the snow, but something tells me that’s not it. That’s not something that would make Khalid be as late as he is… right? I shouldn’t waste any more time here; I’m going to go look for him. He’s never been this late before…_

* * *

Letting out a sigh, she blew onto the paper as she pulled out her pocket watch to check the time, just how long had she been sitting here waiting for him?

“Shit,” it had been far longer than she had anticipated waiting, had she just gotten that distracted sitting there? She knew the days were shorter in winter than summer, but Khalid had never been this late before. Neither of them had been. So, she closed her journal and packed it away in her back as she pulled herself to her feet.

“I hope there’s a good reason you’re so late…” Byleth muttered to herself, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I swear if it’s just because you forgot I’m going to pummel you, Khalid…”

Making the trek to the palace had been a rather peaceful one. The streets were quiet since most civilians were inside away from the cold. She looked up at the snow falling from the sky, letting out a small smile. Once, Khalid had asked her to describe the snow to him, since the last time that it snowed in Almyra was when he was a baby.

She told him that it was cold and wet, but he wanted to know more about it. So, she described the way that it danced through the sky like millions of tiny, white feathers. He seemed so in awe at her explanation that she couldn’t help but tell him about an old Fódlan legend. Where if you caught one of the snowflakes on your tongue, your wish would come true.

He had asked Byleth what her wish was, but she hadn’t had an answer to give him. What did she wish for? She never really had to think much about it before. There wasn’t anything that she particularly wanted nor needed. Growing up in a mercenary group, you're always on the move. You can’t afford to have much because every time you move, there’s a chance that something could be stolen or damaged.

So, she said that her wish was for his wish to come true.

To counter that, Khalid said that his wish would be for Byleth to learn what her wish was because he knew that she had one, even if she didn’t know what it was yet.

It was a sweet memory she had with him, and she couldn’t help but scold herself for not writing something like that down in her journal. After all, it would have been far more interesting than everything she had written down so far. Though, it’s not as though she didn’t have any mementoes of the conversation.

That night, she drew Madinalmuluk in winter. But instead of snowflakes falling from the sky, it was a thousand white feathers.

Byleth was immediately pulled out of her pleasant thoughts when she arrived at the palace. Something was wrong; something was _very_ wrong. Though the castle usually had a few guards patrolling during the day, there were never more than two or three that the eye could see at a time. Today, there were dozens of guards stationed outside of the palace—far more than she had ever seen before when she had been there with the prince. She didn’t even know the castle _had_ that many guards. And with the intense staredown they were giving her, she couldn’t help but be on edge.

“ _Tawaquf_!” one of the guards exclaimed as she took a step closer, their spear aimed directly at Byleth’s chest as if they there threatening to impale her if she took a single step closer. “ _'Idhkor ghardaka_!”

Byleth’s understanding of Almyran was less than ideal, though she had been picking up several terms and phrases; it was mainly ones that Khalid had taught her. However, he was the main person that she had interacted with, and they spoke almost exclusively in the language of Fódlan. So, she had a minimal idea as to what the guard was saying to her. She knew, at the very least, that _tawaquf_ meant to stop. That was at least enough for her to pause dead in her tracks and raised her hands, showing them at she was unarmed.

“I’m here for Prince Khalid.” Byleth had hoped that one of the guards there might recognise her. After all, she had been at the palace with the prince several times before. However, at the mention of his name, their stances went ridged. Though she wasn’t at all confident in her ability to speak their language, it seemed as though she would have to attempt it. She just hoped that Khalid hadn’t secretly been teaching her curses. “Err… _lam yat liltadribay_. He didn’t come to training.”

A female guard that she hadn’t noticed before stepped to the front of the others. She raised a hand to silence the previous guard that Byleth had been speaking to (if it could even be called that). The woman looked vaguely familiar; Byleth could remember seeing the woman lecture Khalid whenever they got back a bit too late in the evening from their shenanigans, dragged him inside as she did so much to his humiliation. Though, this was the first time that Byleth had seen the woman working in the daytime, which confirmed Byleth’s suspicions. If they had a night guard working in the daytime, then there was something _definitely_ wrong.

 _“Jasmine!”_ The first guard exclaimed, but the woman ignored him as she continued to approach Byleth, stopping right in front of the bluenette, crouching down slightly to be at the same eye-level as the girl. Byleth couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the action, this was the first time that the woman had acknowledged her, and she had never seen her do that to the prince.

“You’re the prince’s small friend, aren’t you?” Jasmine asked, her accent was thick, but Byleth was grateful that she at least spoke the language of Fódlan. It saved her a bit of time trying to (poorly) translate.

“Yes, I am,” Byleth confirmed, shaking her head. “Is everything alright? He’s hours late for training I thought—”

“The prince is dead,” Jasmine interrupted, and Byleth’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Byleth was hoping that Jasmine was wrong. That the woman had just gotten her words mixed up—it sometimes happens when you're speaking a language that isn’t your native tongue. That had to be the case; there was absolutely no way that Khalid could die.

“You heard me: the prince is dead.” Jasmine’s face was a solemn one, and in that instant, Byleth knew that she was sincere. The woman had gotten down to Byleth’s level to tell her so that she would see the severity of the situation written on her face. Jasmine hadn’t gotten mistaken in translation at all; she had known exactly what she had been saying.

Byleth’s gaze flickered from the woman towards the other guards standing at the gate. They each wore a different expression: anger, guilt, sorrow, regret. Some of them held an awkward combination of them. They all had failed at their job of keeping the royal family safe—of keeping the prince safe.

And she did too.

“How…” Byleth couldn’t stop the word flowing out of her mouth, and she supposed that it was better that it was her mouth that was flowing instead of her eyes. Though, if the stinging in her eyes had any sort of indication, it wouldn’t be long until that started as well. “How did he die?”

“ _La yjb'an tukhbir alfatatu_!” the previous guard shouted at Jasmine, who raised a hand to silence him as she turned towards him, growling something at him that Byleth didn’t quite catch, but was enough to cause him to take a step back.

“It was an assassin,” Jasmine told her, “but that is all we know. There could have been multiple. We are uncertain since no one saw or heard anything weird. He was found in the courtyard by one of the guards, but his body was cold by then.”

Byleth couldn’t believe this. Khalid was _dead._ No… it was worse than that… Khalid was dead, and he died _alone_.

That was all that it took before the dam burst behind Byleth's eyes as tears began to fall from her cheeks for her friend. There was no one there to comfort him, no one there to even attempted to save him. He had been dead for hours before anyone had even the faintest clue… before _she_ even had the faintest clue. She had been sitting there, in their spot, like an idiot, reminiscing about him. But now, those memories were going to be all that she had of him. She should have gone to look for him right away when she noticed that he wasn’t at their spot, but instead, she sat there, waiting patiently, writing in her stupid journal!

No…, the journal wasn’t stupid. It was a gift from Khalid. It was the first and last physical gift that she had received from him. It was the only thing she had left beside her memories to prove that she had known him now that he was dead.

She knew that someday they would have to say goodbye when she had to return to Fódlan, but she was hoping that Khalid was right—that it would just be a ‘see you later’. But this… this wasn’t even a goodbye.

Death was something that she was used to in her profession as a mercenary; she had seen allies and enemies alike succumb to death’s cold grasp. But it never occurred to her that it might strike someone that she loved.

“Why are you telling me this…?” Byleth couldn’t help but ask. She wasn’t that educated on the formality of guards and their rules of conduct, but she knew that something like this was most likely supposed to be a secret until a formal announcement could be made. Which probably wouldn’t be until after they search for any trace of the one who did it, who has probably long since fled the city.

“Because the two of you were close,” Jasmine told Byleth, giving her a sad smile, placing a hand on Byleth’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “He would want you to know. He actually would never shut up about you. Drove me crazy listening to him ramble to his mother so much. He cared about you a lot. And now I can see that the feeling was mutual.”

Khalid talked about her? She knew that they were rather close, considering she was supposed to be his tutor with the sword, but she didn’t think that he cared enough about her to talk with his mother, _the queen,_ about her. Maybe Ronan had been right. Perhaps he did just continue with his lessons as an excuse to spend more time with his friend. Knowing this pained her even more and made the tears fall faster.

She shouldn’t have gotten as close to the prince as she did… she should have been more focused on teaching him swordsmanship than spending time with him. She could have prevented this. His death was on her hands. Another notch to add to the belt of people who’s lives she had taken. Even if she hadn’t done it herself, it was her fault.

As if knowing exactly what Byleth was thinking, Jasmine placed her other hand on her shoulder as well and gave her a soft shake, causing the girl to snap out of the hellhole that was her mind as she looked at the woman with a tear-stained face.

“I know you were teaching him sword, but you can’t blame yourself for this. He did not have any weapons with him when we found his body. If anything, the fault is ours. As guards, we should have been more vigilant. But it is not as though we can turn back the hands of time and prevent it from happening…”

Byleth raised a bit at Jasmine’s words. They couldn’t rewind the hands of time, but Byleth _could_. Byleth had one thing that they didn’t: Sothis. And although the green-haired girl was still surrounded by mystery, she was a trusted ally of Byleth.

“ **I know what you’re thinking…** ” Sothis’s voice infiltrated Byleth’s train of thought, and Byleth couldn’t help but wonder if she had just gotten that predictable to Sothis or if she had accidentally been projecting her thoughts to the green-haired girl. “ **But we haven’t the faintest idea of the limitations to our abilities! I know you desperately want to save the prince, and I will do everything that I can to assist. However, if things don’t turn out how you hope, then I implore that you listen to the lady-guard and not blame yourself. And don’t even try to deny it because I know that you will!** ”

‘ _Either way, we have to try!_ ’ Byleth urged. ‘ _I would never be able to live with myself knowing we could have done something but didn’t.’_

“ **I know…** ” Sothis let out a sigh. “ **You’ve got a good heart; there’s no shame in that. But you tend to act before you fully think things through. Just don’t do anything rash… okay?”**

With those warning words said, time slowed down until it had eventually paused, as time warped itself around the girl as everything started to go backwards.

* * *

As soon as she regained awareness of where she was and what was happening, Byleth proceeded to do something rash.

Realising that she had been sent back in time to the late morning, just before her training with Ronan had begun for the day, she prayed that she had arrived early enough to save Khalid from his fate. Swiftly getting up from her place by the campfire, she stumbled a bit, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Shit, it seemed like Sothis was right, travelling back so far did take its toll on her. Considering last time, Byleth had done it, she rewound to a time that she had been in bed and swiftly fallen asleep, she hadn’t noticed.

She shook her head as she tried to snap herself out of her daze, which caused Ronan to give her a curious look.

“Eager to start training, are we?” he asked, eyebrow raised at her. “I was personally under the impression that we were starting after lunch. And considering that the flames aren’t even high enough to cook anything on it yet, it’ll be about another hour.”

“I have to go,” was the only excuse that Byleth offered as she grabbed her sword and ran in the direction of the palace as fast as her legs would carry her.

“What the—Byleth wait!” Ronan called after her, getting to his feet, letting out a curse as she disappeared into the distance. Byleth didn’t bother to pause, or even to look back. His words didn’t even fully register in her brain. All she knew is that she couldn’t afford to delay; she had to get to Khalid as quickly as she could. She didn’t know if she would be able to rewind time any further back without harming herself in the process, so this could very well be her only shot at saving him. Her time manipulating ability was an exceptional tool, but it was a tool that she wasn’t yet proficient enough to use it to its full extent. She would have to start training with it more, even if the training itself might be over tiny insignificant things.

She needed to master it.

Byleth bolted towards the palace at speeds that she had never managed to reach before. What would ordinarily be a thirty-minute walk ended up being less than a ten-minute run. By the time that she reached the palace, she was out of breath but had forced herself to keep going. She couldn’t pause. Plus, the fact that she could actively notice that there were only a few guards around the palace meant that there was still hope in reaching Khalid in time.

The guards that Byleth passed gave a curious look her way but didn’t stop her. She was familiar with these guards—they were the usual ones she saw whenever she was around. Though considering the current situation, she was tempted to scream at them for not protecting the prince, but she knew she couldn’t afford the delay. She needed to reach Khalid as soon as she possibly could. She needed to make sure that he was okay, that he was _alive_.

And so, she bolted towards the courtyard as fast as she could, ignoring the burning sensation she felt in her legs. That was, after all, where Jasmine had claimed that his body had been found at. So long as his body wasn’t already there, that meant Byleth had a fighting chance when it came to saving him. And that was enough to keep her pushing through the pain. She was a force to be reckoned with, and she would make sure that Khalid’s would-be assassins would know that. They better hope that they hadn’t gotten to him before she had.

If they had… then Byleth would find out the exact limitation of her time-altering abilities. She would not rest until the prince was safe. No matter what the cost to herself was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 08/05/2020


	7. Red Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Holy shit,” was the only expression that Khalid had been able to formulate. She had managed to kill three enemies while he had been struggling to hold back one. No matter how much he wanted to help her out, it was clear that they were on two completely different levels when it came to experience.
> 
> “Just keep your guard up, they’re still on the rooftops,” Byleth told him, her gaze not shifting from the swordsman that Khalid had been fighting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two!  
> I'm VERY glad that I split into two parts, since otherwise it would have been a single chapter over 16,300 words. That's longer than Jekyll and Hyde, y'all.
> 
> Fair warning, this chapter is VIOLENT. I just hope I did the fight scene justice.

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_vii. red feathers_

* * *

_13 th day of the Pegasus Moon (again)_

_Imperial Year 1174_

* * *

_Madinalmuluk Palace_

* * *

Khalid couldn’t believe how much he had overslept. No one had bothered to wake him up that morning, and when he looked out the window that morning, he had instantly known why. It was snowing outside! Though it had been something that rarely happened, it had always managed to cause an uproar when it did. The last time it had snowed was when he was three, and he still hears the horror stories from his parents about that event.

Judging by the fact that absolutely nobody had bothered to awaken the prince, a task that had to be done daily because that boy was _not_ an early bird, he had deduced that every schedule had already been thrown into shambles. Though he did appreciate the rare opportunity to sleep in, the day that he had managed to succeed in doing so had been less than ideal, considering he was supposed to meet with Byleth in just a few hours.

On the one hand, he supposed there was plenty of time yet. But on the other, he was nowhere near ready to go out in this weather. He knew that Byleth wouldn’t cancel lessons over a little snow—she was from Fódlan for god’s sake—he could only hope that he could coerce her into having a bit of fun in the snow. After all, it had been about ten years since the last time it had snowed in his home country.

Considering just how long it had last been, he knew that he didn’t have anything suitable to wear outdoors. Though he had some thicker, winter clothing, he didn’t have anything that would be quite warm enough for snow.

If Khalid had to guess, his father would have something that he could wear. He was the King of Almyra after all. Though it didn’t snow too much in their current location, Khalid knew that it did in other parts of the country. Whenever his father ventured outside of Madinalmuluk, he would dress accordingly for whatever time of year it was. And since he had such a variety of clothes, Khalid was sure that he wouldn’t miss one of his thicker jackets that badly, because he doubted the tailor would be open today. After all, they needed to stitch up as many coats as they could for everyone else.

A growl from his stomach interrupted his train of thought as Khalid let out a small laugh. He had slept through breakfast, and it was nearing lunch. Though he knew that he could sneak a snack from the kitchen, he decided against it. After all, if he got caught, they’d ask why he didn’t just sit at breakfast. And if he had said that he had overslept and missed it, then no doubt it would get back to the queen, who would never let him hear the end of it. He could imagine it now:

_“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she would tease, ruffling his hair. “Let me guess, you too busy dreaming of your girlfriend to want to wake up? Who would have known that it would have been a Fódlan girl who caught your attention? I guess you’re more like your father than I thought. Though, I can’t say I blame you; she is a cutie after all. Why don’t we have her become your official betrothed?”_

His cheeks went pink at the idea, but that wasn’t enough to derail his train of thought. Byleth as his betrothed? Why was that the first thing that he thought his mother would suggest?

Sure, Tiana had made vague indications about it in the past to get a rise out of her son. But she had never been so… _blunt_. And yet, Khalid found himself not loathing the thought. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He knew that Byleth would be leaving soon… so this could be the perfect way for the two of them to reconnect when they’re older.

But would Byleth even want that?

They’ve only known each other for less than a year, after all. Plus, Byleth was a mercenary. She was able to go anywhere she desired and see anything she wanted. Unlike Khalid. Though he had a considerable amount of freedom for a prince, the basis of his life was planned out for him. After all, he was the only heir, so he was destined to become king. It wasn’t as though it was something that he could forget about, no matter how much he wanted to sometimes. If she accepted the betrothal, then she would become queen.

Then, all Byleth’s freedoms would come crashing down and become restricted like his own. And if you’re living the life of a commoner—of a _mercenary_ —it could quickly become suffocating. Khalid wouldn’t be surprised if his mother had a hard time adapting to it at first as well and considering she was noble, that was saying something.

Letting out a soft sigh, he shook his head. He was getting way ahead of himself; the girl wasn’t even aware of his feelings towards her. There was no guarantee that she would even reciprocate them. Though she was an outsider like him, there was no way for him to know if that meant the same to her as it did him. He highly doubted it, in any case. Though Khalid would like to believe that their friendship, that their _bond_ , was genuine, there was always an uncertainty lingering in the back of his mind. After all, for her, this was all temporary.

Khalid knew that Byleth was destined to leave, sooner or later. He didn’t know when, but he knew that it was coming, faster than he cared to admit. She could just go off back to her homeland and forget about him if she chose to. But Khalid knew that he would never be able to forget about the blue-haired girl that changed his life.

Ruffling his curly locks as he stepped away from the window, Khalid decided that he would definitely end up being late today if he didn’t escape his own head. He got dressed, doing his best to push his thoughts to the back of his mind. He could contemplate his thoughts and feelings another time. For now, he needed to get his priorities in order.

The first thing that he needed to do was to get a jacket from his father’s wardrobe. Though in most other circumstances, Khalid would have just layered the warm clothes that he had on hand, that wasn’t an option this time. The boy had gone through a sudden growth spurt lately, so most of his clothes were a bit tight. If he had tried to layer things that were already getting a bit small, then he would no doubt be compromising his mobility. And if he couldn’t talk Byleth out of doing actual training, he would end up landing on his arse more than once. Therefore, his best bet would be to borrow one of his father’s jackets.

His parent’s chamber was located on the complete opposite side of the palace than his own. He knew that it had been designed like that for a reason. If the castle were ever under attack, then the assailant would be focused on one side, giving the guards the ability to protect the other. However, Khalid still thought it was a bullshit setup. The only real time that he ended up seeing his parents was at meals, or when his mother decided to come to visit him. His father was quite busy, so Khalid didn’t blame him for not being able to spend much time with his son.

Despite the circumstances, Khalid was still well aware that the quickest way to the other end of the palace was to pass through the courtyard.

Sparing one last glance out his bedroom window, he watched the snowfall. Even though it was cold and wet, he didn’t find himself minding that at all. He was still more than willing to walk through the open courtyard. In fact, he was more than a little excited for it. After all, if Byleth were correct in her claim that catching a snowflake on your tongue would make your wish come true, then Khalid was more than willing to give it a try. After all, he wanted to do anything he could to help Byleth realise her own wish. There had to be something that she wanted, after all.

Slipping on his shoes with vigour, he exited his room and swiftly made his way through the corridors to the courtyard, looking through any windows he passed to peek at the snow falling as he did so. It wasn’t something that he had grown up seeing, and it was simply mesmerising to watch. Though he wasn’t a massive fan of the cooler temperature, he would say that this was a fair trade-off.

As he passed another window, Khalid could have sworn that he saw a black blur in the distance outside it. Pausing to do a double-take, he took a few steps towards the windowsill; he looked out onto the horizon for any sign of what the blur was. However, he didn't see anything that it could have been. If he hadn’t imagined it, then whatever he saw was gone now.

Khalid let out a sigh as he rubbed his eyes, cursing to himself for oversleeping. It had completely thrown him off. Sparing one final look out the window, he decided that his best course of action would be to continue his trek down the corridor. This time he opted not to go looking out any of the window, least he starts seeing things again. He couldn’t help but blame the snow and its hypnotic effect.

The moment that he took a step into the fresh snow of the courtyard, Khalid felt the bite of the bitter cold air, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He understood why it didn’t usually snow now—it had to be exceedingly cold for the rain to crystallise. Ignoring the chill, the best that he could, Khalid looked up at the pale grey sky as snowflakes danced and twirled through the air in a motion that also seemed to be magical. He raised his hand gently, watching the snowflakes land on him and melt the instant that they touched his warm skin.

Khalid couldn’t believe that something like this was real. He had decided then and there that watching the snowfall and standing in the snow were two completely different experiences. Seeing it through the window made it seem fictional, like the moment that he took a step outside, it would be revealed to have all been an illusion.

But now, standing in the snow, it felt otherworldly. It reminded him of what Byleth had told him: snowflakes were just thousands of white feathers falling from the sky. He had a vague image of what she had meant when she had told him that, but he couldn’t imagine that it would be so incredible. He wished that she had been there with him, enjoying the snowfall with him. It was so peaceful, so serene—

“Khalid, look out!” Byleth’s voice cut through the previous silence of the courtyard, and Khalid couldn’t help but jump in surprise as his attention flickered to where he heard the voice. The sound of metal-meeting-metal reverberated through the air as Khalid had finally located Byleth. She was standing just a few meters away from him, her back to him as her sword was extended in a high guard position, a stray dagger protruding from the ground a few feet away from her. He noticed her sharp gaze fixated on top of the roof perpendicular to them, and Khalid turned to see a black-clad figure jump down at Byleth, their sword readied to strike as soon as they hit the ground.

“Byleth!” Khalid called out, even though Byleth was in the proper position to guard, he did not doubt that a swing with that sort of momentum would easily break through that guard and kill her.

Khalid, however, was quickly reassured that he should avoid underestimating the bluenette. Byleth had proven that she had been prepared for the attack, rolling to the side to dodge the attack narrowly. She removed one hand from her sword and aimed it at her enemy, projecting a blast of flames towards the attacker. The attack hit them square in the chest, and sending them flying backwards several feet, which presented Byleth with the perfect opportunity to get back onto her feet, prepared to launch another attack them, this time with her sword.

She hadn’t taken more than a few steps towards her target when a dagger flung with alarming speed sunk itself deep into her shoulder blade, causing her to let out a cry in pain as she whipped around, her hold on her sword not faltering. If it hadn’t been for the fact Khalid had witnessed the blade pierce her, as well as the steady flow of blood droplets dripping from her wound, staining the white of the snow beneath her, Khalid would have doubted that she had been hit. Her stance hadn't changed in the slightest. Was this normal for her?

“There’s two of you? I should have figured…” Byleth growled, and Khalid looked at the enemy that Byleth had downed start to stir. He knew that he had to do something to help, so he reached towards his sword at his side, only for his hand to meet the air.

Fuck, he had forgotten his sword back in his room. His bow was back there as well. He briefly contemplated the probability of success if he were to run back to his chambers to grab a weapon, but he decided against it instantaneously. If they saw him running away, then he would become the immediate target. Not to mention the fact that he refused to leave Byleth alone against multiple attackers. However, he wasn’t sure how much assistance he could provide since he was unarmed.

Or was he?

His gaze flickered over to the dagger impaled in the ground near Byleth’s feet. It had been the one that she deflected. If Khalid were able to move quickly enough, he would be able to grab the weapon order to help her. Though he had never fought with a dagger before, it was better than sitting by idle. Besides, it’s not as though he had properly fought with a sword either.

He set the plan in motion without a moment of hesitation, using the slickness of the snow to his advantage as he slides towards the dagger, diving down to grab it, swiftly jumping back to his feet as he tested the weight of the dagger in his hand. He didn’t miss the deadly look that Byleth gave him, so he gave her the cheekiest grin he could muster considering the severity of the situation.

“I couldn’t let you have all of the fun, could I?” he joked, but Byleth wasn’t having it.

“Get back inside, Khalid,” she snapped, taking Khalid by surprise. However, despite her harsh tone and her cold expression, one look into her eyes, and he could see that she was begging him to leave. “These guys are here to kill you.”

“How do you know that?” Khalid gave Byleth an odd look, a bit surprised. He would admit, it was strange that she had seemingly appeared out of nowhere to protect him at the exact same time that these guys showed up. Something told him that it wasn’t just good timing. However, she knew that Byleth wasn’t the kind of person who would team up with someone willing to kill him… right?

She was protecting him, after all, which was the exact opposite of what these guys were trying to do. Unless it were just an elaborate guise for her to gain his trust, but she wouldn’t do that to him, would she?

Byleth spared him a look that seemed to say “I’ll explain later” which was enough to pull him out of his daze. He had questions, but he had to trust her. Now wasn’t time or place for him to be doubting her.

Byleth turned back towards the new enemy, raising a hand towards them. Though Khalid was too far away to notice last time, she had some runes painted onto her hand, which almost appeared to glow as she softly muttered an incarnation. Next thing that Khalid knew, a ball of flames blasted out of her palm and towards the assailant, who was a bit more prepared for it than his companion, dodging it by running along the rooftop, avoiding her attack.

Byleth scowled as she leapt into the air as she released another blast of fire, propelling herself just a bit higher so she could land onto a nearby statue. Khalid was surprised by her technique, but he had to admit that it was smart. Otherwise, the statue would have been out of her reach. She used its height her advantage as she once again used her flames to boost herself onto the rooftop before running after the man whose dagger was impaled into her shoulder. Khalid was impressed that she hadn’t slipped due to the snow, but he supposed it was something that she had adapted to considering she was from Fódlan.

Khalid turned towards the original attacker who had finally managed to get to a standing position. Despite taking a ball of fire to the chest, they didn’t look anything more than winded. Which, considering that the fabric of their clothing had been fused to their flesh, was terrifying

“Just for the record, I won’t judge you if want to back out of the fight so you can go see a doctor about that,” Khalid offered, only for them to take a step closer towards him as they reached for their sword. “Yeah, I didn’t think that’d work…”

Khalid’s eyebrows furrowed as he tightened the grip on his dagger as he tried to strategise. He knew enough about swords and daggers to know that there was a vast difference between the two. Though, one could argue that a dagger was like a smaller version of a sword. He knew that wasn't true, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't pretend it was. However, judging from what he knew about his capabilities from his training with Byleth, he understood that he was better at blocking than attacking. So, he knew that his best option, for the time being, would be staying on the defensive until there was an opening.

He hoped.

However, as he watched his opponent unsheathed their sword, he felt less and less confident in his strategy. Just watching the way that they moved with their swords demonstrated that they were leagues above him when it came to swordsmanship. Khalid could feel their eyes on him, glaring, which was an impressive feat considering that he couldn’t actually see the assassins face behind their mask.

As a loud thud sounded next to the castle wall, and Khalid was relieved to see that his opponent looked over at the commotion, so he wouldn’t have to worry about being attacked as he snuck a glance over. Khalid had instantly realised that the sound was a body falling to the ground. But that wasn’t where his gaze was fixated—it was on Byleth. She was standing on the rooftop, looking down at the man she had just knocked off. Her blade was bloodied, something that in itself should have been unnerving. However, Khalid was just relieved to know that she was holding her own against their attackers. 

Byleth looked unimpressed as her enemy lamely threw a dagger up at her, missing her entirely and hitting the side of the wall below her feet. She simply picked the blade from the wall and threw it towards Khalid, piercing it into the ground next to him.

“Parry!” Byleth called out to him, before turning around, looking unamused as she readied her sword. “Seriously?! How many of you are there?”

Khalid turned back to his opponent; their attention had now returned to the prince as well as they began to charge at him with their sword held high. He didn’t have a chance to grab the secondary dagger that Byleth had thrown towards him, so he had to hope that he had enough skill to manage to parry.

As the sword swung down towards him with ferocious speed, he moved to counterstrike—it’s what Byleth had said to do after all—unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. The blow sent his dagger flying as he withdrew his now bloodied hand.

“Shit!” Khalid cursed, as the assailant once again slashed their sword in his direction as he narrowly dodged. Over and over, they swung relentlessly; and over and over, he avoided their blade. Khalid had to think fast; it was only a matter of time before they had him pinned against a wall. As he watched their movement, trying to find a weakness, he noticed it. They seemed to favour swinging with their left hand, so if he timed his technique just right, then he might be able to get out of this situation alive.

As his attacker swung downwards at him, he once again dodged. But this time, instead of going backwards, he dodged to the left, grabbing hold of their arm as they were in the downward swinging motion, pushing it even further to the side as he slid past them, sending a sharp jab with his elbow behind their knee as he darted away.

As soon as he was a reasonable distance away, he glanced back to see them buckled to the ground, and Khalid mentally applauded himself. He couldn’t let this go to waste, so he used the opportunity to run back to the dagger that Byleth had thrown to him, picking it up in his uninjured hand. Khalid finally had a chance to spare a glance at his wounded hand. Though he wasn’t that injured, he did have a nice gash across the back of his hand. It didn't seem too terribly deep, considering that it hadn't compromised his movement capabilities, and he knew just how lucky he had been. It did, however, loos as though it was bound to scar, but he pushed the thought aside as he figured that he had more important things to worry about.

Turning back to his attacker, he readied himself to attack them. However, the plan he had begun to formulate in his mind was abruptly halted as he heard a feminine scream. Panic coerced through Khalid as he turned to the noise.

Khalid released the breath that he hadn’t realised that he had been holding as he watched Byleth jump off the rooftop, an assassin that he hadn’t seen yet was stumbling around on the roof, holding her scorched face in pain.

Byleth landed right next to the man who she had pushed off the roof just a bit ago, who still hadn’t gotten up from the ground. If Khalid had to guess from previous experience, he would say the man had broken his leg when he landed.

Grabbed her sword, Byleth raised it over the man and pierced him through the chest without hesitation. She held it there for a few seconds before she was sure that he was dead before she pulled it away and flicked off the blood. She reached down to the man’s belt as she unsheathed his sword, swiftly getting off the now dead man and running over to Khalid.

The first thing that Khalid noticed was that she looked worse for wear, and he couldn’t help but feel lucky that his only injury was on his hand. She had a large bruise above her eyebrow, and her lip was split open, not to mention the fact that her arms had several new gashes. Khalid couldn’t determine the severity of the wounds because Byleth’s shirt was made from black fabric, and she was covered in an absurd amount of blood. He hoped that most of it wasn't hers. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Byleth interrupted him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and Khalid couldn’t help but give her a dumbfounded look. If anything, he should be asking her that. However, he was once again interrupted before he could speak as she placed the stolen sword in his hands, her gaze fixated on the gash on the back of her hand. Khalid pulled his hands away from her in an attempt to hide his hand. He hadn’t understood why she was paying so much attention to it; she should see the shape that she was in.

Byleth’s attention shifted from Khalid’s hand to the enemy that Khalid had been facing, who was struggling getting back to their feet, no doubt having tired themselves out from the repetitive swings towards the prince while they were already in such bad shape. Khalid couldn’t help but wonder how much longer until Byleth was in the same situation as the assassin—she looked even more injured than they were, and yet she showed no sign of letting up.

“I took care of three of them already,” Byleth informed Khalid, “and I’ve counted seven in total. Assuming there aren’t any more surprises, that leaves us four more to take care of.”

There was so much that Khalid wanted to say, he wanted to tell Byleth to let him help. He wanted to ask her to take it easy while he took over for a bit, even though he wasn’t nearly as skilled as her, he could at least tire them out while she regained her strength. However, the words were stuck in his throat.

“Holy shit,” was the only expression that Khalid had been able to formulate. She had managed to kill three enemies while he had been struggling to hold back one. No matter how much he wanted to help her out, it was clear that they were on two completely different levels when it came to experience.

“Just keep your guard up, they’re still on the rooftops,” Byleth told him, her gaze not shifting from the swordsman that Khalid had been fighting. As she watched them struggle to their feet, she didn’t give them enough time to properly regain their footing before she lunged towards them, her sword low. As soon as Byleth reached them, she sent an upwards slashed towards them, they reacted quickly, raising their own sword to block. However, their stance was still off, and a ghost of a smile grazed Byleth’s face as she twisted. She used her blade to alter the direction of theirs, pushing it away from her as she gracefully dodged out of the sword's path. Using this opportunity, she caught her opponent off guard and issued a sharp kick to their side. With a shout, they crumpled to the ground once again.

A risky move, Khalid noted. If she was even a centimetre off, then there was a chance that the blade could have hit her. But it didn’t; she had executed it with perfect precision. Byleth made sword fighting look like a dance the way she moved with the blade, like it was an extension of herself. Despite how injured she was, she had managed to move with such grace and technique. Glancing down at his own blade, Khalid switched his hold from one hand to two, trying his best to push the pain of his injured hand to the back of his mind. If he couldn’t manage to do this, then he would have to give up all hope of being able to stand at the same level of Byleth.

Even if sword fighting wasn’t his thing, he couldn’t give up. He had to do everything that he could to help Byleth out. Khalid turned his watch towards the rooftops as Byleth took down her opponent. She had said that there were seven assassins, and if she took down this one, then that would leave three remaining.

If she was right, and they intended to kill Khalid, then they wouldn’t stop until they did. He already knew that there was no chance that they would retreat, because if they gave up now, then the chances were that they would never get another chance. No doubt that security around Khalid will be increased until they had been found and dealt with.

He couldn’t help but curse at the assassins, because of this, there was no doubt that security would be tightened until further notice even if they were all eliminated. That was always how it went whenever these sorts of things happened, and he was not looking forwards to it one bit.

As he carefully scanned the rooftops for any sign of the enemy, he noticed movement in his peripheral vision. Preparing himself, he quickly leapt back, narrowly dodged an arrow that had been aimed right where he had been standing. Looking over, he saw an archer perched up on top of the wall, reading another arrow to fire.

Khalid couldn’t believe his luck! If he could disarm the archer, then he had no doubt he would be more useful in the fight. He would be able to adequately protect Byleth, much like what she was doing for him. Or well, at the very least then he would be to cover her. However, considering that the archer had the high ground, it was going to be a difficult task to retrieve the bow without getting shot in the process. Especially considering that the only long-ranged weapon that he had was his dagger.

Wait, that’s it! A bow requires two hands in order to fire, so if he could aim just right, he might be able to render the bow useless to the archer without damaging the weapon. Taking a deep breath, he readied his dagger as he waited until the archer was just about to fire. He would have to be careful to avoid being hit though.

Throw, then dodge. Easy enough.

But his plan was instantly forgotten when he realised that it wasn’t him that the archer aimed for. It was Byleth. As soon as he noticed the shift in the archer’s stance, Khalid turned towards the bluenette.

“Byleth!” he warned, and she glanced over just in time to witness the archer release the arrow from the bow. Knowing that she didn’t have enough time to dodge, Byleth raised her arms to protect herself, letting out a cry as the arrow penetrated her forearm. Her sword fell to the ground as she gripped her arm in pain as she looked at the arrow going through her arm. Khalid stared at Byleth in horror, having witnessed the shaft enter in her arm one side, while the other half protruded from the other side of her arm, having been an inch away from piercing her skull.

If it hadn’t been for her arm disrupting the path of the arrow, Byleth would be dead.

Khalid turned towards the archer, filled with a newfound fire, and he hurled the dagger with perfect precision at the bowman. It penetrated deep into the archer’s eye and into his skull, and Khalid watched as his body fell limply backwards. It had occurred to Khalid that he had just killed the man. He had expected to feel sorrow, to feel disturbed over the fact of taking someone’s life. However, that wasn’t what he was feeling right now. Instead, he felt angry. That man had tried to kill Byleth and nearly succeeded in his goal. But he also felt guilty—but not for killing the man. He felt guilt over being too slow. If he had acted sooner, if he hadn’t had hesitated like he did, then Byleth wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Trying to push his thoughts to the back of his mind, he turned towards Byleth, running to her as fast as he could her.

“I’m sorry,” Khalid apologised as he looked at her arm, “are you alright?!”

“Why the hell are you apologising?” Byleth asked as she took a deep breath. She closed her eyes as she broke off the lengthier part of the arrow lodged in her arm, letting out a sharp hiss as she did. It took a few moments for her to regain her composure, as she opened her blue eyes, turning towards Khalid. But her eyes went wide as she looked at him.

No, it wasn’t him that she was looking at. It was past him. Before Khalid had the chance to process what was happening entirely, Byleth moved. She moved faster than he had ever seen her move before as she grabbed onto him as she twisted her body, switching their positions so that now he was behind her, and Khalid realised why she had been moving so urgently.

Khalid watched in horror as a blade fell through the air. It was more like a butcher’s knife than a sword. There was no technique, no skill. The only intent behind a swing like that was death. A death that had been meant for him.

“No!”

Byleth screamed as the blade slashed into her back. Though it had been Byleth who had taken the full impact of the hit, Khalid still felt the pain echo through to him as her grip on the prince went limp as she collapsed. Khalid moved fast, wrapping his arms around her tighter and pulling her into him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Her body was so close to his, and yet he could only feel his rapid heartbeat.

“No, no, no…” he pled as he desperately tried to find her heartbeat. Holding her now in his arms, he couldn’t help but wonder just how she had managed to keep going for as long as she was. She had been stabbed, slashed and shot and yet kept fighting to protect him. “Come on, Byleth… you can’t give up; you just can’t! I never even told you that I… I…”

“ _Aww, how sweet_ ,” Byleth’s killer taunted as he raised his blade again. He was speaking in Khalid’s native tongue—Almyran—so he knew that this entire attack was more than likely the work of those who didn’t think that there should be people of Fódlan descendant in the royal family due to their ‘inferior’ blood. “ _There’s nothing I love more than puppy love. Oh, wait, there is. Destroying it._ ”

Khalid didn’t even bother sparing the man a glance; he was far too focused on Byleth. There was no way that she was dead, she had been going on for so long, there was no way that this was the final blow. There couldn’t be.

The man didn’t care that Khalid wasn’t paying attention to him since he continued to try to push Khalid’s buttons. Both parties were far too distracted that they didn’t even notice the faint sound of barking approaching in the distance.

“ _You know, I can’t believe the Fódlan girl died for trash like you. Admittedly, she wasn’t a bad fighter. Hell, she managed to off most of my ‘associates’ herself, saved me some time. After we had taken care of you, I was going to kill them myself to get the bounty on your head for myself. Saved me a lot of work there, so as my thank you to her, I’ll make sure that you two reunite real soon in the afterlife_.”

“Byleth!”

A voice screamed the girl’s name in horror, and it took Khalid a moment to realise that he hadn’t imagined it.

Before the killer could make another swing, a massive gale of wind collided into him and slammed him into a nearby wall. Khalid looked over as a blond man made his way through the courtyard through the man, his expression deadly as he neared the assassin, behind his eyes rested an untameable rage. Raising a hand, he sent another blast of wind into the man, slamming him even harder into the wall.

“ _Who the fuck are you?”_ the assassin coughed out, blood trickling out of his mouth. The man didn’t bother to provide him with a response as he launched another surge of magic at the man.

Khalid held Byleth’s body close to him in an attempt to shield her from the harsh winds as he fought back his tears, a battle which he had lost almost instantly. He couldn’t believe that was gone. After everything that he had witnessed her do in one day, he refused that she could die so easily. She had been so skilled, so talented. And yet here she was, lying limply in his arms. She had been so adamant in trying to protect him that she was willing to sacrifice her own life in the process. That idiot…

Khalid’s attention was brought back to the action as he heard the assassin let out a cry in pain, yet the blond man showed no sign of easing up as he continued to send burst after burst of wind magic into him, which continued long after the screams stopped. By then, the man was barely recognisable.

The mage’s breathing was ragged when he had finally stopped, turning around to Khalid and Byleth. As soon as he had gotten a good look at the man’s face, it had finally registered in the prince’s brain that he was one of the members of Byleth’s mercenary guild, Ronan, he recalled.

The man rushed over to the duo, bending over and looking at Byleth with a worried look on his face, placing his hand on her neck as he tried to steady his breathing enough to feel a pulse. It was a drastic change from his demeanour just moments before.

“S-she doesn’t have a h-heartbeat!” Khalid cried out, hoping the man could understand him despite how much he had been sobbing.

“She’s got a pulse,” Ronan exhaled, relief evident on his face. He yanked the dagger out of Byleth’s back as he carefully pulled her out of Khalid’s tight grip, laying her gently on the ground.

The mage raised his hands over her, muttering an incarnation before he placed them onto her chest. The moment his hand made contact; Khalid witnessed a faint glow appear over Byleth’s wounds, watching as the shallower ones sutured themselves back together. The light lasted for maybe ten seconds before fading away, and the man withdrew his hands. It took a few seconds longer, but Khalid noticed that Byleth’s chest began to rise and fall as she began to breathe again. It was shallow, but it was an improvement from before.

“B-But she didn’t h-have…” Khalid sniffled, rubbing his face as he looked up at Ronan. “H-how did you…?”

“Minor healing spell,” the man explained, looking down at Byleth with a soft expression, “it was enough to stabilise her, but she’ll need a lot more aid than I can offer.” Ronan pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Khalid, who was still collapsed right besides Byleth’s unconscious form, covered in her blood. The prince looked at him questionably.

“You’re crying,” Ronan reminded him, giving him a gentle smile. The anger behind his eyes had seemingly fully dispersed itself, and now he had nothing but concern for the two youths. “Everything’s going to be okay. But I know for a fact that when Byleth awakens, she’ll feel awful if she sees that you had been crying on her behalf. Heck, she might start crying too. And neither of us want that.”

Khalid nodded slightly, using the handkerchief to wipe his puffy eyes. Though the flow of tears had slowed down knowing that Byleth was alive, they haven’t stopped altogether.

“Prince Khalid, there’s no need to weep. Honestly, Byleth’s going to be fine, I promise. Not to mention that I sent Astra to fetch the guards to make sure there isn’t anybody else sulking around here, a fact that I find quite ironic. Do you get it? I dispatched the dog to fetch the guards.” Ronan chuckled at his pun. “I will admit, I’m relieved that I got here on time. I didn’t think that my hunch was actually right.”

“Your… hunch?”

“When Byleth suddenly ran off, I had no idea what to think,” Ronan informed him, rubbing the back of his neck. “After all, we were in the middle of getting the fire ready for lunch when she just jumped up and said that she needed to go. Before I could ask any questions, Byleth bolted. I had no idea where she went or why, but I had the inkling that whatever was wrong involved you. You’re pretty much her favourite thing in this country. It turns out, I was right. How she knew, however, is beyond my knowledge.”

“Y-you followed her because you were worried about her, didn’t you?” Khalid was relieved to know there was someone else who seemed to care about Byleth as much as he did. It made him feel better knowing that there was someone who had her back when Khalid failed to.

“Of course,” Ronan gave Khalid another grin, “she’s like a little sister to me. I’d do anything to protect her. Not to mention that Jeralt would have killed me if anything happened to his—”

Khalid had almost completely forgotten about the seventh assassin, but as he watched a dagger fly over his head and impale Ronan right between the eyes, he was cruelly reminded of the fact as he watched the man collapse before him.

He knew he should get up, no, he knew that he _needed_ to get up. Yet, Khalid found himself incapable of pulling himself to his feet. His brain was screaming at his body to move, yet his body was utterly unwilling to do what he commanded. His fight or flight instinct was triggered, and his body had chosen to freeze.

 _‘Get up!’_ he screamed to himself. ‘ _If you don’t get up, you’ll die. If you don’t get up, she’ll die!’_

It had seemed that was what it had taken for him to regain control over himself as he leapt to his feet. He struggled to ignore just how unsteady he was as he pocketed Ronan’s handkerchief. He bent over and picked up the sword that Byleth had stolen for him as he turned towards his attacker. It was the woman from the roof earlier—the one whose face had been burned by Byleth.

And she looked pissed.

Khalid tried to control how much that he was trembling as he attempted to summon all the courage that he had in him to protect Byleth. But when he recalled the state of Byleth and Ronan, two _experienced_ mercenaries, he couldn’t help but falter.

He was going to die.

That was just a fact at this point. With the scorched woman standing in front of him, he knew that the chances of winning against her were slim to none.

At least, that’s what he thought. But the moment that he heard barking emanating from the opposite side of the courtyard, he knew that Astra had arrived. He had just hoped that the dog had alerted the guards and that they were smart enough to decode that something was amiss.

The woman turned towards the dog as if to attack, judging the ‘guard dog’ as a more severe threat than Khalid was. That was her mistake. Khalid used the distraction to his advantage. He charged at her as quickly had he could, raising his blade high and swinging down at her with all the strength that he had.

This was something the woman had obviously not anticipated. As soon as she reached for her blade to try to block, they both knew it was too late as Khalid’s blade sliced into her arm, severing it from her body. She let out an ear-shattering scream as her arm fell to the ground, along with her sword.

Khalid’s blade was still raised, ready to attack her again when the echoes of footsteps came from each of the entrances as Astra continued to howl. His eyes flickered from the woman for only an instant; he had to make sure that it wasn’t more enemies.

Sure enough, the guards had finally arrived. And as soon as they saw the blood and the bodies, they scattered. A group of them circled the one-armed woman with their swords raises as others went to the corpses, trying to determine who these people were, before running off to make sure there weren’t any more intruders.

Khalid ran to Byleth’s side, alerting a few of the guards to fetch a doctor to make sure she received the medical attention that she needed. His gaze flickered to Ronan, who laid motionless. Khalid muttered out a thank you as he knelt to Byleth’s side, taking her hand in his, rubbing circled on the back of her hand as he made a promise. It was to Byleth. It was to Ronan. It was to himself.

He promised that he wouldn’t leave her side.

* * *

Khalid couldn’t believe it had only been three days.

Three days since the attempt on Khalid’s life. Three days since Byleth was struck unconscious. Three days since Ronan lost his life. Three days since Khalid last got any sleep.

After the attack, Byleth was brought into one of the empty bedrooms while they waited for a doctor to tend her injuries. After several hours and a few hundred stitches later, the doctor had told the prince that he had done the best that he could for her injuries, now they just had to wait for her to wake up before they could assess if any permanent damage had been done.

It had been too late to save Ronan; he was dead the instant the assassin’s dagger had struck him. The members from the mercenary guild were notified of the attack the day that it had happened at the prince’s insistence. Despite the castle doing their best to keep it on the down-low until they learned everything they could from the one-armed woman about the attack, they had no choice but to give in to the boy’s request.

The mercenaries responded about how Khalid had expected, though they were upset by the news, they seemed numb to having had lost an ally and having had almost lost another. However, there was an exception to the rest of the mercenaries, a woman named Alisha.

The guard who had gone to inform the mercenary camp of the attack had gotten punched by her. It was for not doing his job better. The woman was pissed, and rightfully so. Apparently, she had been rather close to both Ronan and Byleth, so she had taken the news harder than the rest of them.

Much to the horror of the guard she had punched, Alisha had been the one who visited Byleth the most, often bringing another member of their group, an older mage who was well versed in healing magic.

Khalid and Alisha would trade stories about Byleth as they watched the mage work his magic, managing to heal most of Byleth’s smaller wounds. Her back injury was too severe for him to do that much for, so that was destined to scar. But he had at least managed to repair the muscle damage done to Byleth’s arm by the arrow. He warned that she might have to do years of physical therapy for her to retrain her muscles to be the way she was before, but she would still be able to move and use her arm.

The mage had offered to heal the wound on the back of Khalid’s hand, but he had declined the suggestion. It wasn't severe enough to cause Khalid any issues later down the line, though it was likely to scar. Regardless, Khalid viewed it as a reminder of why he needed to get stronger, why he needed to get _smarter._ If he had been more prepared, he could have changed the outcome. Byleth wouldn’t be unconscious, and Ronan wouldn’t be dead.

Alisha, however, was constantly reminding the young prince to lose himself in an ocean of self-pity.

“Ronan sacrificed his life to save yours, that much is true,” she told him, “but he’s not an idiot. If he didn’t think that you weren’t worth it, then he wouldn’t have saved you. So, don’t blame yourself for his death. It was that one-armed bitch.”

Though Alisha’s words hadn’t helped him feel any better, he knew that it came from a good place.

Khalid had kept his promise. He had been by Byleth’s side ever since, waiting for her to regain consciousness. He wanted her to tell him that it was all a prank that she was okay. That Ronan was okay. But Khalid knew that wouldn’t happen. He was painfully aware that everything that happened that day was real. Hell, Khalid couldn’t stop thinking about it. He wanted to forget it all, just for a moment.

He wanted to hold Byleth’s hand in his own as he pulled her through the city. He wanted to sit on the rooftops eating pomegranates as they did in the autumn and see who could spit the seeds further (he always won, but next time he would let her be victorious for once!). He wanted to see her smile—see her laugh! He remembered how she had interacted with most of the other mercenaries, though she would spare them a smile, she barely ever laughed in their presence.

Yet when she was with him, she struggled to stop. Her laugh was his favourite thing in the world—he loved being the reason as to why she laughed. But now he was worried he would never hear her laugh again; that he would never hear her _voice_ again. He was worried that she would never wake up again.

A sharp knock on the door pulled Khalid out of his thoughts. He turned to see his mother walking into the bedroom that Byleth had been placed in. To his surprise, Alisha came in beside her, carrying a bag with her.

“How’s the kid, runt?” Alisha asked, and Tiana laughed at the mercenary’s nicknames for the two kids.

“Look who I found when I was in town?” Tiana said, giving her son a gentle smile. Since the attack on Khalid, security on him and his mother had increased. Though it hadn’t been affecting Khalid too badly since he’s been spending nearly every moment with Byleth, his mother often did venture through the capital. He was surprised that he had brought Alisha in with her though, she hadn’t assumed that the two women have spoken.

However, judging by the fact that Alisha had punched a guard when she learned what happened to her friends, he had no doubt the women were two of a kind. But that still didn’t explain what they were doing here. They had both stopped in that day to check on him and Byleth. As though she was reading his mind, Alisha watched towards Byleth and sat the satchel she was holding at the foot of the bed.

“A few of the other merc’s have been eyeing up Byleth’s things, I figured that they were safer here than back at the camp. They’re vultures, I swear. I’ve got my eyes on mine and Ronan’s things, but the more I have to guard, the less likely I am to notice something’s missing.” Alisha rolled her eyes, and Khalid remembered that he still had Ronan’s handkerchief.

He reached into his pocket and unwrinkled it. He had washed it while the doctor had been operating on Byleth, but he had kept forgetting to return it. He offered it to Alisha, who just looked at him with an eyebrow raised high.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s… it’s Ronan’s handkerchief,” Khalid couldn’t help but frown at the memory. “He gave it to me right before… you know. I-I figured that you would want to have it.”

Alisha looked at Khalid, then at the handkerchief, she reached over to Khalid’s hand and balled his hand into a fist, the handkerchief still inside his grip.

“Nah, you should keep it,” Alisha told him, giving him a sad smile. “I’m sure he’d want you to have it after all. ‘Sides, I’ve got no doubt it would just get soiled with blood if I were to keep it.” Khalid looked at Alisha in surprise, but seeing that she wasn’t retracting her word, he carefully folded it back up as he put it back into his pocket.

“Thank you,” he told her, before turning to his mother. “Any news from the woman they took prisoner?”

“No, she hasn’t spilt anything yet; however, I think I’ve almost twisted your father’s arm enough that he’ll let me have my turn to try to get her to talk,” Tiana let out a giggle as she folded her hands. “And I was just discussing with our friend here if she would like to help me persuade her into telling us what she knows.”

Khalid was right; they were two of a kind. That assassin should fear for her life, because if she doesn’t tell them what they want to know…

Well, she’s going to be missing more than just an arm.

“Khalid,” Tiana’s voice had switched to a more soothing one, as she looked down at her son gently, “when was the last time that you slept?”

Khalid didn’t know how to respond because he hadn’t gotten any sleep since everything went down three days ago. He could feel the effects of exhaustion begin to take hold of him, but he couldn’t let himself succumb to them. He had promised that he wouldn’t leave Byleth’s side, and right now, she was unconscious. He hadn’t the faintest idea when she would wake up, but he wanted to be there when she did.

“You can’t keep going on like this, _abnay,_ ” his mother shook her head at him.

“I can’t just leave her,” he told her, his voice cracking as he did so.

“So why don’t you just take a nap on the bed next to her?” Alisha nonchalantly suggested. “It’s a big bed, and both of you are pretty small. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

At that suggestion, Khalid’s face went bright red, and both women began laughing as they turned to leave the room.

“Ah, to be young and in love again…” Tiana teases.

“I’m not in love!” Khalid denied, his face rivalling a tomato. Both women burst out laughing one more time as they closed the door behind them, leaving Khalid to pout. He wasn’t in love with Byleth… was he?

‘ _Wasn’t that what you had wanted to tell her when you thought she had been dying in your arms?_ ’ a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him. ‘ _Not to mention the fact you were imagining her being your betrothed. That’s not a thought you usually have about your friends._ ’

Khalid tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. He couldn’t be in love with her! She was leaving anyway, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, the chances that he would ever see her again were little to none, right?!

‘ _Well, with that sort of attitude, then of course the chances are low,_ ’ he couldn’t help but scold himself. ‘ _If you actively tried to see Byleth again, then I’m sure you’d be able to…’_

Khalid couldn’t help but let out a groan as the emotional part of his brain argued with the logical part. He took a few steps back and plopped onto the foot of Byleth’s bed, forgetting entirely about the satchel that Alisha had sat on the bed until it had fallen off and onto the ground, the contents flying out of the bag.

“Shit,” Khalid cursed as he got up and started collecting Byleth’s items, picking up her pencils and quills first before moving onto the larger things like her books and her sketchbook. The journal that Khalid had given her had been thrown the furthest, laying askew near the door. Khalid cursed as he walked over to it, bending over to pick it up.

The journal was lying open as he went to pick it up, and he knew that he shouldn’t read it, that he should respect Byleth’s privacy and return it to her bag, but when he saw that she had an entry from the date that they were attacked, he couldn’t help but be curious. But as his eyes scanned the page, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he picked it up, reading it over again.

* * *

> _Day 13 of the Pegasus Moon, 1174_
> 
> _Our time in Almyra is coming to an end soon. I’ve heard the merchants talk, there isn’t much left for them here for the time being. I must admit, it will be weird to be back in Fódlan after spending so much time away. We’ve been here for about eight months, after all. I’ve actually started picking up on some of the language, too._
> 
> _I’ve got to admit, I’ll miss Khalid though… I wish I could bring him back to Fódlan with me, I have a feeling he’d love it there. But I know that’s impossible, he’s a prince. He’s supposed to be here, so I can’t steal him away no matter how much I want to._
> 
> _Speaking of Khalid, he’s unusually late for our training. I’ve been sitting here for the better portion or two hours waiting for him… the sun is close to setting now. Sothis says that there was a pretty probable chance that people in the palace were dealing with the panic because of the snow, but something tells me that’s not it. That’s not something that would make Khalid be as late as he is… right? I shouldn’t waste any more time here; I’m going to go look for him. He’s never been this late before…_

* * *

As much as Khalid’s heart fluttered at the second paragraph, that wasn’t what had caught his attention. It was the last paragraph that he found so peculiar.

She had been waiting for him until the sun was setting? That didn’t make any sense—it had been late morning when she had arrived at the palace. Not to mention that she had been unconscious during the usual time that they would have training, being tended to by the doctor. Khalid couldn’t help but wonder if she had the date wrong?

No, that couldn’t have been it. That day had been the only day that it had snowed. Not to mention the fact that Khalid had never been late enough to training that Byleth had to look for him before. So, what was with this weird journal entry? And who the hell was Sothis?

“What are you doing?”

He barely heard it, but as soon he realised who was speaking, his heart dropped. He turned towards the bed, seeing a pained Byleth attempting to sit up, her attention on Khalid. He looked down at the journal and then back at her. He had to know what this journal entry meant.

“What happened on the thirteenth?” Khalid asked her, taking a step towards her. She looked at him curiously, before gesturing down at herself, wincing a bit as she did so.

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” she had joked, but Khalid didn’t laugh. He handed her the journal, and she looked down at the entry that had him completely puzzled. As she read it over, her own expression dropped as her eyebrows furrowed. “What? But that’s impossible… that hadn’t happened yet…”

“What hadn’t happened yet, Byleth?” Khalid asked her, and she pursed her lips, looking as though she was in an internal debate with herself.

“You died, Khalid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 08/05/2020
> 
> I do love some good foreshadowing.
> 
> But I am sorry about Ronan, I really am.
> 
> This actually wasn't how I intended to end this chapter, it was going to be with Byleth waking up and Tiana teasing her and Khalid about 'young love', but with the addition of the magic journal, I couldn't resist.
> 
> We'll probably have one or two more chapters before we begin the canon story. Yay!
> 
> As always, please let me know your thoughts.


	8. One Day More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, does that mean that we’re never going to see each other again?” tears started streaming down Khalid’s cheeks, and Byleth felt her eyes start to water as well.
> 
> “I don’t know…”
> 
> Byleth didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was almost certain that their paths wouldn’t cross again. After all, she doubted that Jeralt would send any more of his mercenaries to Almyra after what happened to Rohan. And because Khalid was a prince, if he ever were to be in Fódlan, he would likely be confined to the capital cities for various diplomatic meetings. The odds that the two would see each other again was little-to-none. Not to mention the fact that Byleth and her mercenary band moved around so much, it would be impossible to keep in touch with one another through letters.
> 
> It was in this instant, and this instant alone, that Byleth hated the fact that Khalid was Almyran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter! I've been a bit preoccupied finishing up what I needed to for this year at uni, then I realised just how close this story was to combining with canon, so I checked my saved file, only to realise that I accidentally saved over my New Game+ file with my Blue Lion Route, so I've been trying to beat that route to redo the Golden Deer route.
> 
> Anyway, Happy Pride Month! Hope everyone is staying safe, between Covid-19, police brutality and the world just being one mega shit show.
> 
> Just remember kids, BLM and ACAB. Stay safe out there!
> 
> edit: the Almyran Capital name has been changed to Madinalmuluk

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_viii. one day more_

* * *

_16 th day of the Pegasus Moon_

_Imperial Year 1174_

* * *

_Madinalmuluk Palace_

* * *

“You died, Khalid,” Byleth regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth, but she knew that there was no getting out of this situation without telling Khalid the truth. She just hoped that he would believe her, despite how impossible it sounded.

“I’m sorry, _what_?” Khalid’s expression shifted from one of confusion to one of concern as he cursed under his breath in his native tongue. He took a step closer towards Byleth as he placed a hand on her forehead, feeling her temperature. The girl’s hand flew up and grabbed his wrist, pulling it away from her forehead and to her lap. Doing so made her acutely aware of the fact she was wearing nothing but bandages and a thin shift dress; however, Byleth pushed her embarrassment to the back of her mind. She linked her fingers with his own, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Her eyes flicked back at Khalid’s form as she eyed him up and down. Other than some bandages wrapped around his opposite hand, he had appeared to have come out of the fight relatively unscathed. Unlike before.

She had lost count of how many times she had to rewind time in the battle to save Khalid, who seemed to have a knack for getting himself killed. It didn’t help that the assassins had kept coming at them—Byleth hadn’t had the faintest idea as to where they had all came from—but every time that she had managed to kill one, it had seemed as though another one had arrived in their place.

From the small amount of Almyran that she knew, Byleth had pieced together that the assailants were being paid to kill the prince. But that was as much information that she had managed to discover, despite the number of times that she had been forced to relive the battle. She had no clue about who had organised the attack, assuming that somebody had to begin with. There was also the possibility that there were multiple people who learned about the hit and decided to take advantage of the snow to attack. They hadn’t been wearing uniforms of any sort after all. However, that didn’t mean much considering that Byleth’s mercenary group didn’t either.

“I know it sounds insane, Khalid, but I need you to listen. Please.”

Khalid’s green eyes stared into Byleth’s blue ones as though he was looking directly into her soul. Byleth didn’t look away though. Considering the fact that she hadn’t fully awoken until he already had the journal, there was no way that she could attempt to hide the truth. Though she knew a lie would be more believable, she didn’t want to lie to him. No, she couldn’t lie to him. Not after everything that happened.

After a minute, Khalid let out a soft nod as he sat down on the bed next to Byleth, his hand still interlocked with hers. She wasn’t sure if he believed her or not, but she was relieved to know that he would at least hear her out.

“A few years ago, I met a girl in my dreams, her name is Sothis.” Khalid bit his lip as he reached over for Byleth’s journal with his free hand, wincing slightly as he flipped the journal open. When he reached her latest entry, he paused to scan over the page again. As soon as his eyes landed on Sothis’s name, his gaze shifted back to her, quirking an eyebrow at her as he sat the book down once again.

“In your dreams, huh?”

“The first time I ever met her was in my dreams. I was trapped in a void and couldn’t escape, and I was terrified out of my mind. Which was odd, to say the least. Before I met her, I hadn’t really shown any sort of emotion. But something about our meeting had seemed to connect the missing link inside of me because, after that, I had started to feel things.”

Byleth bit her lip as she thought back to when she had first met Sothis. Looking back now, she realised that she had been missing more than just her emotions before she had first interacted with the green-haired girl. She had also been missing several of her memories from before that point. She was vaguely aware of the things that had happened around her, but the details were incredibly hazy. Though Byleth still had no idea just how the two of them were connected, she knew that their connection was vital towards one another for various reasons.

“After that night, it didn’t take long for me to start hearing her in the daytime as well,” Byleth continued, looking over at Khalid in an attempted to gauge his reaction; however, he just looked more confused than anything else. “Somehow, she and I are bonded together. We’re not sure how or why. Actually, she doesn’t really know much about herself aside from her name.”

“So, if I’ve got this right, you’ve got a voice inside of your head?” Byleth knew that Khalid hadn’t had any ill intention regarding his question; however, that didn’t stop Sothis from taking offence.

“ **How dare he! I am much more than a voice inside of your head!** ”Sothis exclaimed. **“After all, if it had not been for our intervention, he would be quite dead! I thought princes were supposed to have manners! Hmph!** ” Byleth glanced down at Khalid’s hand and began tracing the lines in his palm in order to suppress the eye roll that she wanted to direct at Sothis.

“She’s a bit upset about the fact you’re referring to her as a ‘voice’; however, you’re not far off. Nonetheless, Sothis is also the reason why you’re still alive—why _I’m_ still alive.” Byleth bit her cheek slightly as she realised just how bad of an idea this was.

“A few months before I met you, I was attacked by a few masked mages in the Eastern Hyrm Mountains. I was stupid and wandered off by myself, I was hoping that I could find _anything_ that could help spark Sothis’s memory.” Byleth couldn’t help but flinch as she thought back to the incident that happened that fateful night. “And I did, eventually. When I was lying on the forest floor, burning to death. I was positive I was going to die.”

Byleth felt Khalid’s body go rigid, and she looked up from his palm to his face, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. She raised her other hand and cupped Khalid’s cheek, forcing him to look at her face as she offered him a reassuring smile.

“And for a moment I thought I did. Everything around me froze, and I was surrounded by a veil of darkness. But it turned out that I was wrong. During my moment of need, Sothis regained a memory. She remembered that she could alter the flow of time, so she brought me back to the night before I had wandered off. I woke up the next morning with all memories of the night before but none of the injuries.

“It was a miracle that I had survived that night; if it hadn’t been for her, I would be a charred corpse in the middle of the mountains. But I hadn’t had an opportunity to test out our new time-altering ability since then. At least, I hadn’t until the other night. When you didn’t come to training, I got worried and headed to the palace…”

Byleth found herself struggling to hold Khalid’s gaze any longer, and she released her hand from his cheek, looking down to his hand once again as she began to draw circles into his callused skin.

“They told me that you had been killed,” Byleth bit down on her lip as the memories came flooding back to her. “No, not killed… _murdered._ And I knew that I couldn’t just let you die, so I had Sothis rewind time to that morning.”

Byleth knew that what she was saying sounded utterly insane. She knew that there were plenty of ways that Khalid could react to what she had been telling him, both good and bad. But when Khalid let out a sad laugh, she wasn’t sure how to take it.

“As awesome as it’d be if you could control time, that’s impossible,” Khalid carefully told her, shaking his head. “Besides, this really isn’t something that you should be joking about, considering what happened—"

“I’m not joking,” Byleth insisted, tightening her grip on Khalid’s hand as she stared at him. Her eyes pleaded with him to believe her. He had too! After all, he saw the journal entry. There was no possible way that she could just fake something like that.

 _‘Wait! That’s it!’_ Byleth released Khalid’s hand from her grip as she picked up the journal, holding it out for Khalid to take. “Write something! I’ll prove it!”

Though he looked uncertain, Khalid took the journal from Byleth. Flipping through the pages, he let out a sigh as though he didn’t know if he wanted to humour the girl or not. However, when she saw him reach over for a quill and ink, Byleth knew that she had won.

“What am I even supposed to write?” Khalid asked as he dipped the quill into the ink.

“Anything that you want,” Byleth told him, “something that you think would convince you that I’m telling the truth.”

“So, in other words, write only something that I would know, right?” at Byleth’s frantic nods, Khalid let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “I know you know some spoken Almyran, but what about written?”

“I know that it’s all squiggles,” Byleth told him, “but that’s about as far as my knowledge goes.” At her comment, Khalid stifled a chuckle as he wrote into the journal, right below her previous journal entry.

His gaze lingered hesitantly on the page for a few moments his initial entry, before he shook his head, signing his name as he signed his name and handed the journal back to Byleth, the page still wet from the fresh ink.

“Now what?” Khalid asked the bluenette, who simply blew onto the page in an attempt to dry the ink faster. After a minute, as soon as Byleth was satisfied that the ink wouldn’t smudge, she closed the journal and looked at the boy.

“Ready Sothis?”

“ **Please don’t overdo it, a few minutes should be more than enough,** ” Sothis advised, as everything around them paused as it started to rewind.

_”?sihtoS ydaeR“_

_.yob eht ta dekool dna lanruoj eht desolc ehs ,egdums t’ndluow kni eht taht deifsitas saw htelyB sa noos sa ,etunim a retfA .retsaf kni eht yrd ot tpmetta na ni egap eht otno welb ylpmis ohw ,etteneulb eht deksa dilahK ”?tahw woN“_

_.kni hserf eht morf tew llits egap eht ,htelyB ot kcab lanruoj eht dednah dna eman sih dengis eh sa eman sih gningis ,daeh sih koohs eh erofeb ,yrtne laitini sih stnemom wef a rof egap eht no yltnatiseh deregnil ezag siH_

_.yrtne lanruoj suoiverp reh woleb thgir ,lanruoj eht otni etorw eh sa elkcuhc a delfits dilahK ,tnemmoc reh tA ”.seog egdelwonk ym sa raf sa tuoba s’taht tub“ ,mih dlot htelyB ”,selggiuqs lla s’ti taht wonk I“_

_”?nettirw tuoba tahw tub ,narymlA nekops emos wonk uoy wonk I“ .riah sih hguorht dnah a nar eh sa hgis a tuo tel dilahK ,sdon citnarf s’htelyB ta ”?thgir ,wonk dluow I taht gnihtemos ylno etirw ,sdrow rehto ni ,oS“_

_”.hturt eht gnillet m’I taht uoy ecnivnoc dluow kniht uoy taht gnihtemos“ ,mih dlot htelyB ”,tnaw uoy taht gnihtynA“_

_.kni eht otni lliuq eht deppid eh sa deksa dilahK ”?etirw ot desoppus neve I ma tahW“_

_.now dah ehs taht wenk htelyB ,kni dna lliuq a rof revo hcaer mih was ehs nehw ,revewoH .ton ro lrig eht ruomuh ot detnaw eh fi wonk t’ndid eh hguoht sa hgis a tuo tel eh ,segap eht hguorht gnippilF .htelyB morf lanruoj eht koot dilahK ,niatrecnu dekool eh hguohT_

* * *

Though he was quite concerned about the state of the Byleth’s mind, Khalid took the journal from her. He wasn’t sure what it was that compelled him to humour the girl, but he complied. There was no way that she was telling the truth, right? Time travel was impossible; it was something that existed in worlds of fantasy. Despite there being several different types of magic throughout the world, none of them had come anything close to being able to alter the flow of time. Then again, Byleth wasn’t much of a prankster. Her sense of humour varied between dry, dark, and bad puns. So, there were two options: she was either telling the truth or had gone insane from the last battle.

Sparing one final look at Byleth, he flipped open the journal as he let out a sigh as he had skimmed over the first few logs in the journal, eventually flickering to the one from three days ago. However, as soon as his eyes landed on it, his heart dropped. There was a new entry written right beneath it. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked closer at the journal as he recognised the handwriting as his own.

* * *

> _Day 16 of the Pegasus Moon, 1174_
> 
> إذا كنت على حق ، سأخبرك بما يعنيه هذا.
> 
> أحبك أكثر مما تتخيل
> 
> الأمير خالد _Prince Khalid_

* * *

“No way…” Khalid exhaled as he looked closer at the text written before him. The scent of ink was emanating from the page was almost overwhelming, and he instantly knew that it was fresh. His eyes scanned over the page repeatedly as though they might vanish as soon as he removed his gaze from them. He couldn’t believe it; she had been telling the truth.

Khalid turned towards Byleth, who was now slouched over with her hand on her head. Before he could do anything for her, she shook her head slightly as she collected herself. She removed her hand from her head and leaned forward to look at the journal in front of them. She cocked her head to the side as she read over the journal. Khalid had to fight the urge to pull the book away from her.

“What does it say?” Byleth asked the prince, who released a breath that he hadn’t realised he had been holding. The fact that she couldn’t read it had been a major relief to him. Though, he hadn’t had the faintest clue as to what had prompted him to write it in the first place.

“It’s just a dumb note to myself,” Khalid lied, reading over the line again, “reminding me why I should trust you.”

Byleth quirked her eyebrow at his comment but remained silent. If she had any sign that she knew that he had lied to her, she didn’t reveal it. Khalid had made sure that he showed no sign of his tell; he hadn’t bit down on his lip or done anything to indicate that he had been dishonest. Though if he was honest, it wasn’t a total lie. It _was_ a reminder as to why he should trust her. But the words itself meant something entirely different.

He had no idea why he had chosen to write what he did; however, it was impossible to deny the fact that it had indeed been him to write it. It was in his own handwriting, after all. And in those words, lay a promise, a promise that he swore he would tell Byleth. Someday.

“So, you really can control time, huh?”

“To a certain extent,” Byleth informed. “I’m still trying to figure out how it works if I’m honest. It’s something that I need to start practising with, but between training with you and Ronan, I haven’t had the time.”

Khalid’s stomach lurched at her comment, and looking at her thoughtful expression, he knew that she hadn’t had a clue about Ronan’s fate. That meant that he had to tell her…

“What do you remember about the fight against the assassins the other night?” Khalid enquired, and Byleth closed her eyes as she drifted through her memories. He had to know if she had known if Ronan had been there with them or not.

“They just kept coming. Even on the last attempt, I wasn’t certain if there were any more than seven. They were merciless.” Byleth opened her eyes and looked at Khalid with glossy eyes. “They didn’t hesitate to kill. I watched you die over and over again, but I refused to give up on saving you.”

“You did all of that for me?” Khalid asked, and Byleth slowly nodded. He noticed that her gaze drifted down towards his bandaged hand, so he held it out towards her and flexed it. Though it still hurt, it was bearable. “This is the worst injury that I received, thankfully. You saved my life. You and Ronan…” At the mention of Ronan, Byleth’s face contorted into one of confusion.

“What does Ronan have to do with this?”

And there it was, the dreaded question. Khalid swallowed a lump in his throat as he contemplated all of the possible ways that he could tell her what had happened. There was no easy way to tell someone that somebody they care about is dead; however, there was no way that he could proceed without telling her.

“After you took the blow that was meant for me,” Khalid could feel his voice growing shaky, so he tightened his grip on Byleth’s hand, “Ronan appeared and saved the two of us. However, we had forgotten about the last one, the last assassin.”

Byleth’s eyes went wide as she started putting two-and-two together, and she began shaking her head in denial. “No…”

“You might have saved me, but Ronan saved you,” Khalid took a sharp breath. “No, he saved _us._ If he hadn’t arrived when he did, we’d be… but instead…”

“Ronan’s dead,” Byleth concluded, and Khalid solemnly nodded. At the confirmation, her glossy eyes had begun to fill with tears, and she threw herself into Khalid’s chest. He was surprised at the sudden action, but he wrapped his arms around her as he began to rub circles into her back as he attempted to comfort her.

“It’s all my fault,” she sobbed out, “it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t moved so recklessly, I could have saved him. I could have saved you both…”

“You didn’t know,” Khalid reassured her. “It’s not your fault, he knew the danger. You did everything that you could, you can’t blame yourself for this.”

“W-what if I can’t stop it?” Byleth said it so quietly that Khalid almost didn’t hear. “What if I can’t save a life without sacrificing another?”

Khalid had no idea how to respond to Byleth because of the fact that he had no idea if that was the case or just an unfortunate coincidence. He was grateful to be alive, but was his life spared at the cost of another? Khalid decided to push the thought from his mind or else he would have an existential crisis, which was something that he did not want to deal with. So instead, he settled with focusing his attention on comforting the sobbing girl in his arms.

* * *

Byleth had awoken in Khalid’s arms the next morning as the events of yesterday came rushing back to her. After he had informed her that Ronan had been killed during the attack, she had sobbed in his arms for hours on end until they had both fallen asleep.

After carefully wiggling herself out of Khalid’s grip as to not disturb the boy’s much-needed slumber, she sat up at the edge of the bed. Her back injury was throbbing, but she had been injured enough times before to know it was no longer severe. Though the pain was intense, she was aware that it had been healed enough in order to avoid ripping open from such a simple movement. However, it might be a few weeks and several healing sessions later before she can properly swing a sword.

In contrast to her pain she felt physically, she felt quite numb emotionally. Byleth had spent more time crying last night than she had in her entire life. She had reached the point where she wondered if she had any more tears to shed or if she had used up her lifetime supply then and there. As a mercenary, she knew that death was inevitable. In fact, it was highly likely in their career field. She had witnessed several of the members of their mercenary group die before. However, this was the first time that somebody she cared about had died, excluding Khalid since she had succeeded in her attempts to save him.

At least, that was the first person that she remembered caring about permanently dying. She did have a mother, once upon a time. Though Jeralt had dodged nearly every question that Byleth had asked about the woman, she had enough knowledge to piece together that she was no longer of this world. She wondered how her father would react to the news about Ronan. He had lost people before, but Byleth was worried. Ronan was as much as a son to Jeralt as he was a brother to her. Though he hadn’t been biologically related to either of them, he had become a part of their family, nonetheless.

Planting her feet onto the cold floor beneath her, Byleth took a deep breath as she prepared to stand up. Though she had nowhere to go in particular, she wanted to test to see how well she was faring with her injuries. She had been wounded quite deeply in several parts of her body, and despite the fact it’s been magically healed, she was aware of the fact that it was not perfect. She needed to test the waters slowly.

She put a hand onto the bed for support as she began to shift her weight to her feet as she straightened her legs. Though she was a bit unsteady from having been unconscious the past few days, she thankfully felt no pain in the lower half of her body. Byleth knew she should be grateful, considering that meant that her mobility wouldn’t be compromised. But she still felt numb.

Byleth didn’t like this feeling. It felt so familiar, and yet it was so alien. She knew this was how she had continuously felt before she had met Sothis, and she did not wish to return to that state. With a plea, she reached out for Sothis in her mind.

“ **Do not fret, child, I am right here,”** Sothis’s voice rang throughout Byleth’s head. **“The concern you have about my whereabouts proves that you are not in a completely indifferent mindset. You have been through a lot in the past few days, it is only natural for you to be emotionally exhausted. Trust me, there is nothing the matter with you.”**

Byleth nodded her head slowly as she took in Sothis’s words, taking a deep breath to collect herself. She was right, if she had fully reverted towards the state she had been in before meeting Sothis, she wouldn’t feel so much concern about not being able to feel.

“Ronan’s dead,” Byleth told her.

“ **Yes, I heard,”** though she couldn’t see her face, she knew that Sothis was frowning. **“I was quite fond of him, I will admit. But you must not blame yourself for what had happened to him. I do not know how many times I must remind you that you are not to blame for each unfortunate event to happen. However, I will continue to do so until it sinks in.”**

“Thanks, Sothis. I—"

Before Byleth could get another word out, a sharp knock on the door pulled her attention away from the conversation she was having. Her eyebrows furrowed, Byleth glanced back at the sleeping prince, who did not even stir at the sound. Letting out a sigh in relief, Byleth turned towards the door, taking a cautious step towards it. However, the moment she released her grip from the bed, her knees buckled underneath her. Byleth collapsed face-first onto the floor, not having been able to get her hands up in time to stop her fall. A hiss escaped from her lips as she felt a surge of pain course throughout her back. With a slam, the door flew open, and she saw a familiar figure in the door holding out a bow towards her.

“Alisha?” Byleth croaked out, pushing herself onto her knees as she tried to focus on the woman in front of her, rather than the pain she felt.

“Holy shit,” Alisha cursed, putting down her bow as she ran towards Byleth, picking her up and putting her back onto the bed. “You shouldn’t be moving yet, kid. You took a serious blow.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Byleth muttered, looking down at her knees. She didn’t trust herself to look Alisha in the eye—she was the reason why Ronan was dead, after all. Though she didn’t know the exact relationship between Alisha and Ronan, she knew that they were more than just friends.

“Hey, look at me,” Alisha commanded, much to Byleth’s surprise. Biting down on her lip, Byleth hesitantly looked up at the woman. “I’ve been where you are right now. Have I ever told you of my life before I joined up with Jeralt?”

Byleth shook her head. “You never spoke of your past.”

“Yeah, well there’s a reason for that,” Alisha let out a bitter laugh as she sat down on the foot of the bed. “You remember that year we were in Fhirdiad? It’s ‘cause I knew the knights. Trained with most of them at some point or the other too.

“I might not look it, but I’m from a noble house myself: Gideon.” Byleth was surprised by this information, Alisha never struck her as a noble type. In fact, the woman rarely had anything nice to say about them. Though, this revelation might explain why she was so against the concept of nobility. “Though, growing up was an absolute bore if I’m honest. I was born without a crest, the only one out of us five who didn’t have one. Guess I was the family disappointment since day one.”

“You’re not a disappointment though,” Byleth tried to argue, causing Alisha to give her a sad grin, shaking her head.

“Try telling that to my parents. I rebelled against them since I was old enough to understand the concept of rebelling. It got so bad; you wouldn’t even believe. I ended up running off with this squire when I was fourteen, and my parent’s about had a heart attack. Still don’t know why though, it’s not like they ever really cared about me.” Alisha let out a bark of laughter as though something just occurred to her.

“What?” Byleth was utterly lost. She glanced back to Khalid, who was still sleeping soundly. Letting out a sigh of relief, she turned back to Alisha.

“I think I just realised why they freaked out so much. The squire’s name was Cassandra.” At Byleth’s look of confusion, the woman went on to explain. “Cassandra was my girlfriend. I think they don’t think they realised that it was possible for somebody to like both men and women.”

“Oh, that’s stupid,” Byleth deadpanned. She couldn’t understand why somebody would view that as an issue. Shouldn’t people just be allowed to like who they like?

“It is, isn’t it?” Alisha agreed. “We were together for about three years. In that time, I went on to become a squire myself. I enjoyed fighting, and I wanted to protect the people I cared about. Cassandra had a younger brother, John, who loved to train alongside us. He was a sweet kid; had the brightest pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Anyway, we were out camping in the woods one night. I was the one on watch. I don’t remember what happened next… if I dozed off or if I was just distracted. But the next thing I knew, there were like ten bandits at our camp. I don’t know where they came from, or why they chose to pick a fight with us. We were just kids.

“Cassandra was busy taking down the attackers while John and I defended the camp. One of them slipped in through the back or something, and I didn’t notice until it was too late. John did, however, and he tried to stop them. But he just had a training sword, and the thief had a real one… John didn’t stand a chance.” Alisha took a deep breath as her hands balled into fists as she recalled the memory.

“I blamed myself for what happened to him. If I had just noticed the bandit just a few seconds sooner, things might have ended up differently. Cassandra said that she didn’t blame me, but whenever I saw this far away look in her eye, I knew she was thinking about him. I knew how much she missed him, and I knew it was my fault.” Alisha’s voice cracked slightly at her confession. “So, I ran. And I just kept running.”

Byleth stared at Alisha in shock as the woman ran a hand through her light-brown hair. In the years that Byleth had known the woman, she had never seen the woman look vulnerable. And yet here she was, sitting in front of her, telling her all about all that she’s lost.

“I don’t know how long I ran until I ended up crashing into Jeralt and the rest of ‘em. And you pretty much know the rest from there.” Alisha let out a long sigh as she reflected on her memories after being a part of the mercenary band. “You know, when I heard that a knight from Faerghus recommended us to help guard the city while they were at war with Sreng, I half expected it to be Cassandra. I think that a part of me hoped that it was. Maybe that was why I was so insistent we took the job in the first place. But it wasn’t her…”

“What would you have done if it was?” Byleth couldn’t help but ask.

“I don’t know… apologised for starters. I owe Cassandra that much, at least.” As Byleth went to open her mouth to apologise, Alisha’s eyes locked with hers, and Byleth found her mouth snapping shut. “But not for what happened to her brother. I came to term a long time ago that she was telling the truth—she never blamed me. I just blamed myself so much that I was convinced she did too. No, I would apologise for running from her rather than being honest.”

“I—”

“What happened to Ronan wasn’t your fault, I need you to realise that,” Alisha’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. “Most of those bounty hunters were highly skilled; you’re lucky to be alive yourself.”

“So, they were bounty hunters…” Byleth muttered. “But why did they team up? I don’t think any of them had any intention of sharing the money with the other.”

“That’s because they were all hired by the same person,” Alisha informed her. “Their boss knew that they would have the greatest chance of attacking during the middle of a snowstorm. They hired each of them under the guise that they were the only one, needless to say, they were all in for a shock to figure out that they weren’t.”

“So, they made a temporary alliance until they accomplished their goal…” Byleth deduced, and Alisha nodded.

“Then they planned on backstabbing one-another to claim the kill for themselves,” Alisha stood up, stretching. “It took a while, but we were finally able to get the assassin to cough up the information that we wanted. That’s part of the reason why I came.”

“What was the other part?”

“To see if you were alright,” Alisha gave Byleth a gentle smile. “Astra misses you, after all.”

Byleth was quite sure that Astra wasn’t the only one who missed her, but she decided to keep that comment to herself. After all, it took a lot for Alisha to open up to Byleth about her past after all these years. So, she settled with a: “I missed him too.”

Alisha opened her mouth but closed it as she noticed Khalid stir slightly on the other side of the bed. He moved slightly closer to Byleth, before once again returning to a still sleep. The brunette woman cocked an eyebrow, acting as if she just now noticed Khalid in the bed.

“The prince is finally asleep? How’d you manage that?” Alisha teased, and Byleth just shrugged.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Queen Tiana has been trying to get him to sleep for the past three days, but each attempt has been in vain,” Alisha crossed her arms as she shook her head slightly. “I still don’t understand how someone can say no to her so easily, especially her own son. After seeing what she did to that assassin, I can see how she gained the nickname the Demon Queen. That woman can be terrifying when she wants to be. She’s already sent off some of her men in order to try to track down the mastermind, it’s only a matter of time until their found.”

At this, Byleth perked up. “What happens now? Are we going to track down the one who organised this entire thing?”

“ _We_ are, but not you.”

“But I’m—”

“—still injured from taking a sword to the back,” Alisha interrupted. Byleth pouted slightly as she opened up her mouth to argue. “You need to focus on healing. The merchants are ready to go back any day now, but they can’t go anywhere without their escort. And we can’t go anywhere without you. And even with daily healing sessions, it’s still going to be a week or two before you’re well enough to travel long distances.”

“This isn’t fair!” Byleth exclaimed, clenching her fists so tightly her knuckles were turning white, and her nails were starting to dig into her palms. “I want to help! After all, I was there when they attacked! I fought them! I know how they fight—”

“You know how a bunch of hired bounty hunters fight,” Alisha spat back. “And no offence, kid, but even that didn’t exactly turn out well, did it.”

Alisha let out a sigh as she ran her hand through her hair once again. “Look, I know you’re upset about what happened to you and about what happened to Ronan. I know you’re upset about what almost happened to Khalid too. But if you fight when you’re fuelled by nothing but rage and the desire for revenge, there’s only one way it’ll end, and it’s not pretty. Trust me.”

Without another word, the woman turned to the door and exited, closing the door behind her with a bit more force than necessary. Byleth, still fuming, took a deep breath. She knew that she wasn’t in any shape to fight—she didn’t even have enough strength to walk right now, for crying out loud. But that didn’t make the fire inside her extinguish any.

Byleth didn’t understand what happened; she was fine until Alisha mentioned the fact that they’re so close to finding the one who caused all of this. The person who was responsible for killing Ronan. For killing Khalid. For almost killing her.

She knew that she should be happy that they were so close to bringing justice to that bastard, but she wasn’t. Byleth knew that it was selfish, but she wanted to finish this herself. She wanted to avenge Ronan and make sure that Khalid would stay safe after they left. It just didn’t feel right to her having someone else do it.

Byleth was pulled out of her thoughts by a warm hand taking hold of her own as she looked over at Khalid, his eyes still closed as he laid beside her. She was sure that he was awake, though she wasn’t sure when he woke up. However, if he still wanted to pretend to be asleep, she wouldn’t question it. Taking yet another deep breath, she directed her focus on the heat of Khalid’s hand, rather than her emotions. She was more upset at herself than at anybody in particular.

Byleth wasn’t sure how long she was sitting there, focusing on nothing but Khalid’s hand, but she found herself calming down. She relaxed her hands so that they were no longer fists before she locked her fingers with Khalid’s, carefully laying down. The bluenette turned to face Khalid as she committed his face to her memory. Alisha said that they would be leaving as soon as she got well enough to travel, meaning that she wouldn’t have much longer with the prince.

“Khalid…” his name left her lips without meaning to, and she watched the prince’s eyes flutter open as the green orbs gazed into her blue ones. Byleth had to fight back a smile at the fact that was all it took to get his attention, and all of her past anger had dissipated. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, though they both knew it wasn’t as though he could deny it.

“How much of that did you hear?” Byleth asked, and Khalid gave her a sheepish look.

“Most of it…”

“So, you know what’s going to happen once I recover…”

“You’re leaving,” Khalid and Byleth both knew that this day was coming sooner or later. But being confronted with the knowledge that it was going to be happening in just a few weeks was a terrifying thought.

“It would seem so…”

“Do you have to go?” Khalid asks her, his eyes pleading. “You could stay here with me. This room’s almost always empty anyway… it could be yours if you want.”

“I wish I could,” Byleth gave Khalid a sad smile, “but I can’t. I have to get back to my dad. He’s the only family that I have.” At that, Khalid let out a defeated sigh. He knew how much her father meant to her, so he knew why she wanted to go back.

“If you can’t stay here, then I wish I could go with you,” Khalid muttered, causing Byleth to flick his forehead.

“No, you don’t,” she told him. “I’m a mercenary; you’re a prince. I know you didn’t get to choose your role, but I didn’t either. We’re two completely different people, we both have way different lifestyles. It’s not like either of us can just up and leave them, either. Your country needs you, and my father needs me.”

“So, does that mean that we’re never going to see each other again?” tears started streaming down Khalid’s cheeks, and Byleth felt her eyes start to water as well.

“I don’t know…”

Byleth didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was almost certain that their paths wouldn’t cross again. After all, she doubted that Jeralt would send any more of his mercenaries to Almyra after what happened to Ronan. And because Khalid was a prince, if he ever were to be in Fódlan, he would likely be confined to the capital cities for various diplomatic meetings. The odds that the two would see each other again was little-to-none. Not to mention the fact that Byleth and her mercenary band moved around so much, it would be impossible to keep in touch with one another through letters.

It was in this instant, and this instant alone, that Byleth hated the fact that Khalid was Almyran.

* * *

_Lone Moon_

* * *

Two weeks passed by in the blink of an eye, and the next thing that Byleth knew it was time to leave. True to Alisha’s word, the perpetrator behind the attack on Khalid was located just days after she told Byleth. The queen dispatched several of her guards alongside Alisha and the rest of the mercenaries to take out the threat. Before they left, Alisha brought Astra to the palace so that the merchants wouldn’t be troubled with keeping an eye on the dog while the majority of the mercenaries were away. There were multiple casualties, but Alisha and the guards came out victorious in the end.

Byleth was still upset that she wasn’t allowed to go with them. The only reason she consented to stay back was the fact she had just regained enough strength to walk by the time that they had gone on their mission. Byleth knew it was for the best she stayed behind, but she still had hoped that she could have done something.

Khalid and Byleth had spent nearly every waking moment together before she had to go. Though they were both confined to the palace (Khalid because of tightened security and Byleth because of her regularly scheduled healing sessions), they tried to make the most of the rest of their time together. However, the day before Byleth and the rest of the mercenaries were scheduled to leave, she saw no sign of the prince.

Byleth spent most of her day trying to find the prince. Even Astra was having no luck tracking down the prince, though he got distracted by everybody who passed the duo. Byleth resorted to trying to ask others about the prince, hoping that one of them would have some sort of clue as to where he was. However, ever servant and guard that she asked about his location had just shrugged her off, saying that they didn’t know. Byleth found it odd—after the attack, everyone had been keeping tabs on the boy to make sure that he was safe. She couldn’t help but wonder if everyone had decided to relax after the chief criminal behind his attack had been executed.

Regardless, Byleth was worried and began searching in more and more unlikely places in the palace, much to several of the servant’s annoyance.

“And what on earth is causing you to run around my castle so frantically?” Byleth jumped at the sudden voice, whipping around to look at the golden-haired woman who gave Byleth an amused grin.

“Queen Tiana,” Byleth greeted, “I’m sorry if I seemed frantic, I was just—”

“Looking for my son, correct?” Byleth nodded, causing Tiana’s smile to widen. “I thought so. I’m afraid that I’ll have to be the one to inform you that my son is out today.”

“What?” Byleth was shocked at the fact that Khalid was outside of the castle. “Is that even safe?”

Though she knew that the two of them spent plenty of time together outside of the castle walls before, with such a recent attack, shouldn’t everyone have their guards up in case there were any copycats?

“Don’t worry,” Tiana’s voice snapped Byleth out of her panic. “He’s not alone; he’s got some of my best guards with him. He was just so insistent over the fact that he needed to go out into the city today that I couldn’t say no.”

“That’s good,” Byleth let out a sigh in relief as the older woman gauged her reaction, looking the young girl up and down. Realising that she was under the queen’s scrutiny, Byleth shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”

“What are your thoughts on my son?”

Byleth’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the queen in confusion, unsure why the woman was asking her. Surely, she was well aware that they were friends at this point, wasn’t she? I mean after all; she’s witnessed the two of them together before now. Then again, Byleth was pretty sure this was the first time that she was alone with the queen.

Byleth couldn’t help but wonder if she had done something that would cause her to lose favour with the queen. Was Tiana asking what her thoughts on Khalid were to see if she had some ulterior motive with him? Did the woman genuinely think that she would use her friendship with Khalid for her own gain?

“Khalid is…”

Khalid was a lot of things. He was brave and charismatic, never one to sit by and let Byleth do something on her own. He accompanied her with her chores whenever he could when they weren’t training, before eventually dragging her off so the two of them could have an adventure of their own. He was also mischievous and smart. A lot of their exploits involved breaking some sort of rule or getting into some kind of trouble, which he almost always seemed to manage to get them out of (except the one time that she managed to convince one of the guards not to drag them behind a horse. Byleth’s still not entirely sure how she managed to do that!) But most of all; he was her best friend. She would do anything for him.

“Khalid is precious to me,” Byleth wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Perhaps ‘important’ would be a better word, but that seemed a bit like an understatement to describe what Khalid meant to her. Alisha was someone that Byleth would consider important to her. But for some reason, comparing Alisha to Khalid felt unfair. Because although Alisha was important, Khalid just felt… more important.

Byleth couldn’t pinpoint exactly why that was; she knew it wasn’t because of his status—frankly, Byleth often forgot the fact that he was a prince while she was just a commoner. He’s never treated her any lesser because of their rankings. Was it because of the fact he was one of the only people she’s gotten close to that was around her age?

“I see,” Tiana stated as she continued to stare at Byleth as if searching for something that she hadn’t said. After a moment, Tiana’s expression brightened, as though she had finally spotted whatever it was that she had been looking for. “He’s precious to you, is he?”

“Yes?” Byleth nodded slowly, confusion etching her features.

“So, I guess one could say that you care about him quite a bit,” Tiana continued, giving Byleth a knowing look. “You know, my son is quite fond of you. I’ve never seen him so eager to please somebody before. It’s quite refreshing to see someone see Khalid for who he is, rather than what he is. A prince. Half-Fódlan. Half-Almyran. It would seem that no matter who interacts with my son, they go into it having some preconceived view of who he is. But not you. Why is that?”

“I don’t know?” Byleth had no idea what the queen was trying to get out of her, but she decided to attempt to humour the woman, nonetheless. She had been letting Byleth and Astra stay in the palace for the past few weeks, after all. “It would be wrong to judge him. If you judge a book on its cover alone, you’re a fool.”

People were just like sketchbooks. The inside is always different than how the cover portrays. It could be made from a beat-up leather or be encased in gold, but what matters is the artwork on the inside. Art is what people pour their hearts and souls into; it’s what reflects their most inner self. And if you ignore a sketchbook because of what it appears to be on the outside, you could be missing some of the most beautiful artwork you’d ever have the chance to see.

“Besides,” Byleth continued, “he’s never judged me.”

Tiana gave the blue-haired girl a gentle smile as she asked one more question: “Do you love him?”

Byleth felt her stomach drop as her cheeks began to heat up at the implication of Tiana’s words. Before she could open her mouth the stutter out some coherent reply, the woman raised her hand as she shook her head, telling the girl that she needn’t speak. However, once again, judging by Tiana’s expression, she already got her answer.

“You may return to your room; I’ll let Khalid know you were looking for him when he gets back,” letting out a soft laugh, Tiana walked down the corridor past Byleth, before turning back one last time. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting any sort of response to the last question; I just wanted to see your reaction. Needless to say, I wasn’t disappointed.”

The woman continued down the hallway, leaving a red-faced Byleth standing there dumbfounded.

* * *

Byleth paced in her room for the next three hours, trying to dissect her conversation with Queen Tiana. Especially the very last comment that the woman said.

“ _’To be honest, I wasn’t expecting any sort of response to the last question; I just wanted to see your reaction,’_ ” Byleth repeated, “ _’I wasn’t disappointed?’_ What the hell does that even mean?” Byleth groaned as she ran her hand through her hair. The sound of her voice caused Astra’s ears to perk up as he looked over at her from the bed, letting out a soft yelp as if he were trying to respond. Byleth let out another loud groan as she plopped herself onto the bed next to Astra, burying her face in the dog’s fur.

When the queen asks you if you’re in love with the prince, her _son,_ your answer should be: “We’re just friends, your majesty.” But instead, Byleth’s answer was to go bright red and braindead.

“What the hell is wrong with me?!” Byleth shouted, grateful for the fact that Astra’s black and white coat was muffling her voice. She couldn’t understand why she froze when she was asked that. Was it because the queen made her nervous? Or was it the fact she was staring at her so intently? Byleth had no idea, and it was driving her crazy.

“Are you alright?” a voice coming from the door caused Byleth to shoot up from her dog-pillow, grateful that she was finally able to do that without any pain. The prince stood in the doorway, giving Byleth a look of both concern and amusement. It was a special look, one that only Khalid was able to pull off.

“I’m fine,” Byleth lied. “I was just bored _, really bored_. I can understand why you used to sneak out so much now, this castle’s pretty boring when you’re on your own.”

“Oh yeah,” Khalid nodded, offering the girl a sheepish grin. “Sorry for disappearing without saying anything, I had to go get something. My mom told me that you were looking for me all day…”

“Oh, did she?” Byleth could feel her cheeks warm-up, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “I was worried, nobody knew where you were.”

“Yeah…” Khalid just shrugged, the sheepish grin not dropping from his face. “I figured it was better to keep it on the down-low.”

Byleth was surprised to hear that, considering that apparently meant that the down-low even excluded her from knowing. Byleth and Khalid told each other nearly everything. Hell, he even knew one of her biggest secrets now.

“Where _did_ you go, anyway?” Byleth figured there was no harm in asking him where he spent the day. If it had been any other day, Byleth wouldn’t have minded his absence. However, he knew that it was their last day together. She was heading out with the others tomorrow morning.

“The market,” Khalid told her, walking over to Astra as he sat down and pet the dog. “I got you something.”

“You got Astra something?” Byleth teased as she sat down on the other side of the dog, causing the boy to laugh as he flicked her on the forehead, causing the girl to swat his hand away as she laughed. Though the pain from the attack was still fresh, it was slowly starting to subside, and the two were beginning to fall back into their regular dynamic.

Actually, if Byleth was being honest to herself, they seemed to be even closer than they were before. She wasn’t sure if it why that was. If it were because they realised just what lengths, they would go for one another or if it was because Khalid had finally learned her secret. He finally knew about Sothis and her ability to rewind time; it something that she had never been able to speak to anybody about before now.

“No, By, I got _you_ something,” Khalid stressed, a massive grin on his face. If she didn’t know better, she would hardly guess that it was her last day with the boy.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she told him. Though she knew that the boy was a prince, she still felt guilty accepting something from him without giving him something in return.

“I know. I wanted to.”

“I could refuse it, you know.”

“I know, but you won’t.”

The two of them sat in a comfortable silence as they pet Astra (who was basking in the attention) before Byleth spoke up again. “What is it?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” Khalid told her, causing the girl to give him a playful pout.

“You do realise I leave tomorrow, right?” she reminded. Had he forgotten?

“I know,” a look of sadness flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly gone as Khalid bumped her shoulder with his own. “This is my excuse to get you to come and say a proper goodbye.”

“I don’t like goodbyes,” Byleth told him. Endings were too sad, in her opinion. Even if they were happy endings, that meant that the story was complete. And the characters that you read about and fell in love with would be meeting their conclusion, only to eventually be forgotten about in time.

“I know.” Byleth and Khalid once had a long conversation about endings and goodbyes before. Although Byleth was half expecting Khalid to be on her side about hating endings, he wasn’t. He was actually a big fan of stories that had happy endings, because in real life, most people didn’t get one. So, when he was able to read about that rare event, it gave him hope that one day, he might be able to get a happy ending as well.

“You’d be insane to think that I would be willing to leave without saying anything to you, though,” she told the boy. Khalid stopped petting Astra as he turned to her, holding his pinkie out.

“Promise me that you’ll stop by tomorrow morning,” he said, and Byleth nodded. She held out her own pinkie and locked it with his, shaking their hands up and down.

“I promise.”

* * *

The next morning, Byleth made good on her promise as she set out to find the prince. It took her longer than she expected to find the prince, but that was mostly because the prince was waiting on the palace rooftop for her. He was sitting on the top of the palace wall as he looked upon the city in the distance. She was thankful for the fact that the palace had stairs that lead to the rooftop because Astra had been right on her heel the entire time she searched for the boy.

“Interesting place to wait,” Byleth remarked after she finally managed to find Khalid, who simply gave her a smile in return as Astra ran over to him, nuzzling his face into the boy’s hand.

“I didn’t want to be somewhere that we’d get interrupted,” he admitted. “At least when it comes time for you to leave, it’ll take them a bit before they find you.”

“Ah, so that’s your mysterious motive behind picking this spot,” Byleth teased.

“You’ve caught me,” Khalid held up his hands in mock surrender as Byleth sat down beside him. It was early in the morning, and the city had yet to come alive. Everybody had just now started to get up and moving, but it would be a few hours before the streets were bustling.

“I’m going to miss it here,” Byleth found herself saying as she looked out onto the horizon, before looking over at Khalid. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Me too,” he said, as the two of them shared a sorrowful smile. “Do you remember what you said a few weeks ago? After you woke up?”

“You’re going to have to enlighten me,” Byleth informed him. “I’ve said a lot of stuff since I woke up.”

“You said that you weren’t sure if we would ever see each other ever again,” Khalid told her. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that. This has by far been the best year of my life, and that’s all because of you.”

“You’re giving me too much credit.”

“Am I though?” Khalid asked. “You were the first person besides my parents to give me the time of day, to treat me like I’m a person instead of a half-breed, or a prince.” Byleth’s mind flashed back to the conversation she had with Tiana the previous day, and her cheeks flushed pink as she remembered the nature of Tiana’s last question.

“I’m sure you’ll meet somebody else who will see things the same way that I do,” Byleth assured, though she wasn’t sure who it was that she was assuring; Khalid or herself.

“But they won’t be you,” Khalid said, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver chain. On the very end of the chain, rested a silver ring with three sapphires aligned on it. Khalid looked at it for a few seconds longer, before holding the chain out towards her. “That’s why I wanted you to have this.”

At that revelation, Byleth felt her face go bright red. However, remembering what happened yesterday with his mother, she sputtered out a response. “Why?!”

It wasn’t as though she wasn’t flattered—she was! And that would certainly explain why his mother was asking her so many questions the other day. But they were kids! She knew that it was typically for nobles to become betrothed as kids, but typically it was because of crests or for political reasons!

“Well, rings symbolise a promise, right?” not trusting herself to speak, Byleth settled for giving a weak nod. “And I wanted to do something more concrete than a pinkie promise, and I know how much you hate endings.

“So, this isn’t an ending; this isn’t a goodbye!” Khalid turned towards Byleth, and she saw a fire burning in his eyes as he told her this. “This ring is my promise to you that we will meet again! That we might have to say goodbye for now, but it won’t be forever. We will find each other again in the future when we’re older. And we’ll figure out a way where we won’t have to say goodbye again.”

Byleth couldn’t help but feel a load off her chest as she realised the true reason that Khalid was giving her a ring, and she couldn’t help but feel a smile creep onto her face about the sweetness of his declaration. She threw herself into him as she pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I promise,” she told him, and she felt him lift her hair as he carefully fastened the necklace around her neck. “This won’t be goodbye; you mean too much to me for this to be a forever goodbye.”

She felt wetness on her cheeks, and she realised that she had started crying. She buried her head into Khalid’s shoulder as he did the same to her. If she had to guess, the boy was letting himself cry as well. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, but was in all actuality around twenty minutes, before finally releasing one another.

“You didn’t have to get me anything; you could have just told me that—”

“I wanted to though,” Khalid gave Byleth a gentle smile. “I saw this a few weeks before everything went down, and it matched your eyes. It seemed like it was made for you.”

“But I don’t have anything for you to hold onto for when we meet again,” Byleth gave Khalid a guilty look. “I need to give you something…”

“You don’t need to—” a loud bark interrupted their conversation as Astra jumped onto his feet, looking between the two of them, wagging his tail. With another yelp, he walked over to Khalid and sat down by his side, looking over at Byleth expectantly.

“Astra—”

“Byleth no—” A loud bark cut Khalid off as Byleth gave the prince a sad smile.

“I’m not giving him to you forever,” she told him as she reached over and petted Astra between the ears. “I fully expect you to return him to me when we meet again.”

“But he’s your dog!” Khalid tried to argue, but Byleth shook her head.

“He’s been as much your dog as he’s been mine since we’ve met,” she told him. “Besides, look at him. He wants to stay with you.” Byleth planted a kiss on the top of Astra’s head as she whispered how much of a good dog he was and that he better take good care of Khalid while she’s away.

Rising to her feet, Byleth took one final look at the view of Madinalmuluk from the palace. She let out a sigh as she looked at Khalid and Astra, the former following her lead and standing up.

“I suppose, I should get my things and meet up with Alisha before she sends a search party,” Byleth told the prince, reaching for the ring around her neck as she ran her fingers along the jewels that adorned it. “I really do hate goodbyes…”

“It’s a good thing that this isn’t goodbye then,” Khalid attempted to muster up the best smile that he could, but the red eyes and tear-stained cheeks were evidence enough that it was a forced one.

“Well, I should…” Byleth gestured towards the stairwell, and he nodded. Each step that she took down the stairs made her feel as though she was going down a path of no return. She supposed that in a way, she was. Although she was happy that she would be able to see Jeralt again, she was more distressed about not being able to see Khalid. At least it wouldn’t be forever.

Hopefully.

As soon as she stepped out of the stairwell, she heard Khalid shouting after her as he ran down with Astra, yelling that she had forgotten something. When she turned to face him to tell him that he must be mistaken, he put his hand beneath her chin as he planted a quick kiss on her cheek before running away with a black and white speckled dog chasing after him. Byleth was frozen, staring in the direction that Khalid had run off to as she placed her hand on her cheek. She hadn’t imagined that… right? Tiana’s words once again echoed in her brain.

_“Do you love him?”_

Byleth let out a sigh, shaking her head as she sent one last look in Khalid’s direction before turning towards her room to go collect her things before meeting up with Alisha.

Did she love Khalid?

Yeah, she just might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope this chapter was worth the wait. Let me know your thoughts, as always!
> 
> Also, I wonder if anybody caught the little Easter egg that I hid in this chapter.


	9. Burned Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re growing into a fine young woman,” Gertrud closed her eyes as she let out a soft sigh. “You’ve got a soul of one far beyond her years, though I suspect that’s no surprise considering who you are. I’d never forget those green eyes.”
> 
> “My eyes are blue,” Byleth informed the old woman, who gave her an indiscernible look as she spared Byleth’s eyes a second glance.
> 
> “I suppose that they are,” she noted. “You’re a very special girl; I’m sure you’ll make a certain somebody very happy in the near future.”
> 
> “Let’s hope it’s not too near,” Jeralt grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth is back in Fódlan, and we get to see glimpses of the 5 years between then and the current timeline. However, the most important fact: WE HAVE OFFICIALLY REACHED TO PROLOGUE PEOPLE! I hope you guys are prepared, because I'm sure as hell not. However, I've been roughly plotting out chapters-guide to this fic, and what I had originally anticipated being around 36 chapters has evolved to around 50. Also a huge shout out to Meribell for encouraging me, this chapter came out quicker than most others cause of you!
> 
> Guys, gals and non-binary pals, I hope you're ready for a loooong ride.

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_ix. burned out_

* * *

_Blue Sea Moon_

_Imperial Year 1175_

* * *

_Daphnel, Leicester Alliance_

* * *

It took the better portion of four months for Byleth, Alisha, and the other mercenaries to locate and reconvene with Jeralt. In that time, life was not easy. They were met with attack-after-attack as they escorted the merchants back to Fódlan with their foreign goods. Though the merchants were safely escorted to the Eastern Church, they had lost several of their allies from the assaults. Soon enough, there were only five of them remaining.

Byleth blamed herself for their deaths; despite her ability to rewind time, she still was unable to save her comrades. Despite having been magically healed, her muscles were still weakened after taking an arrow through her sword arm. She wasn’t as fast or as strong as she had previously been with her sword. Though she was assured by the group healer that it was only a temporary setback until she could manage to retrain her body, Byleth had already had to face the consequences to her actions.

So, every night, Byleth would sneak away from the remainder of the group to try to hone her skills to the level that they once were. Sothis was less-than-thrilled about Byleth’s need to constantly train, telling her that she needed to prioritise her own health over her strength. However, Byleth would remind her that although she has accepted that she couldn’t have saved Ronan, the other mercenaries died right in front of her.

It wasn’t until a bandit snuck up behind her and attacked that she would admit that Sothis had been right. Because she had been going on weeks without getting more than a few hours of sleep a night, she was too exhausted to rewind time. So, using her sword, she tried to fend off her attacker. She succeeded for the most part, but not before getting shot in the knee by an arrow.

Luckily, the sound of the squabble had drawn the attention of Alisha, who was quick to act. Doing what she could for the injury, they packed up camp and headed towards Daphnel—the closest location that might have a doctor who could treat Byleth’s injury. All the while, Byleth was being lectured by both Alisha and Sothis about how reckless she’s been.

When they finally arrived in Daphnel, the first thing that they did was take Byleth to an apothecary to see a proper healer. However, entering the apothecary, they saw it nearly empty, save for a young, blonde girl tending to some flowers in the corner.

“This is an apothecary, right?”

“Yes,” the blonde girl confirmed, trimming the last stem from her bouquet before placing them back in their vase. She turned to Alisha, eyes going wide as she saw Byleth in the older woman’s arms before they wandered down to the blood-stained bandages wrapped around her knee. “Ah, ‘ve got a cot right over ‘ere!”

Alisha carried Byleth over towards the cot as the blonde girl helped place her gently onto the bed. “Where is the doctor?”

“Out,” she responded. “But ’m a ‘ealer though! I can get ‘er fixed up, no problem.”

At that, Alisha gave the girl a nod, and the girl ran out of the room to fetch whatever equipment she needed to take care of Byleth.

“I’m going to go find your old man,” Alisha turned her attention towards Byleth. “Sauin Village isn’t too far from here, and I doubt the village has had enough jobs for him to justify staying in there for so long. It’s more likely he migrated to Daphnel since there are more job opportunities here.”

“It’s unlikely he’d have strayed too far from the meeting point,” Byleth agreed. The blonde girl came back carrying a staff nearly as tall as she was, as well as a box filled with bandages and antiseptics. Setting the box down next to Byleth, she gets to work unwrapping the bandages around Byleth’s knee, causing the bluenette to let out a hiss of pain.

“I wonder how he’ll react to hearing that you’ve taken an arrow to the knee?” the light-brown haired woman teased, gesturing towards Byleth’s neck rather than her knee. Confused, Byleth brought her hand up to her neck. Her hands landed on the necklace that Khalid gave her, her ring still dangling from the chain. She hadn’t taken it off since Khalid had given it to her. “I recommend tucking that under your shirt, so your old man doesn’t see it.”

Realising what Alisha was implicating, Byleth’s cheeks went pink as she averted her gaze. Nonetheless, she followed the woman’s advised and slipping the ring beneath the fabric of her shirt. As soon as Alisha left the apothecary, the healer began cursing as she looked at Byleth’s knee.

“When’d this ‘appen ta ya?” the girl’s accent wasn’t one that Byleth recognised as being native to anywhere in Fódlan, or even Almyra at that.

“Almost a day ago,” Byleth told her, as she pulled out a pair of scissors and cut away at the fabric of her leggings to further expose the wound. “We weren’t anywhere near a town, and our group healer was killed. That woman, Alisha, tried doing the best she could for it.”

“She’s a shit doctor, yer lucky t’s not infected,” the girl gave a pitiful look at the bandages next to her before standing up, staff in hand. “I was hopin’ that it wasn’t ‘s bad as it looked, but it is. ‘N cause it’s not fresh, I can’t guarantee my magic’ll fix it completely. But ‘ve done better with worse.”

The girl gave her staff a twirl as she began muttering underneath her breath, a light forming around her staff as she raised it over Byleth’s wound, as the light swirled around it before it began to pool out of it. Byleth bit back a scream as her knee was engulfed by heat as the magic penetrated the wound and repaired it from the inside. The pain ended as soon as it began as the light died out, leaving pale, white skin beneath it. Byleth looked at it in awe, unlike the wound on her back and her arm, this one blended in near perfect with her skin tone.

“Who are you?” Byleth found herself asking, and the blonde girl gave her staff another twirl as she smiled at the girl before her.

“The name’s Lissa,” she chirped. “How’s that feelin’ now?”

To Byleth’s surprise, Lissa’s magic had caused her leg to make a near-full recovery. Though it was a bit uncomfortable to put her full weight on her injured leg, it was manageable. Lissa had also informed Byleth that there was a chance that her knee could randomly flare-up in pain since it had sat for so long before being repaired, and that she should invest in getting a knee brace to reduce the pain if that were to happen.

The two girls spent the next few hours talking with one another as they waited for Alisha to get back with Jeralt. Lissa told Byleth that she was initially from the Halidom of Ylisse but left eight years ago to explore the world, though she’s only been in Fódlan for a few months and was still getting used to the language. Lissa was also well into her twenties and just looked young for her age. Byleth, in turn, told her that she was a mercenary and had spent the past year in Almyra. Both of the girls interrogated one another about the other’s country (even though Byleth had pointed out Almyra wasn’t her country, but Lissa pointed out the fact that she had just gotten back and was hiding a ring from her father).

Byleth had nearly forgotten the reason why she was staying behind until Jeralt came bursting through the door with Alisha hot on his tail. As soon his eyes landed on Byleth, he was in front of her in an instant, his hands on her shoulders as he scanned her up and down for any sign of injury. When he realised that she had been healed, he let out a sigh in relief as he pulled her into an embrace.

“Thank the goddess that you’re alright,” he muttered, and Byleth relaxed into his arms as she returned the hug.

“I’m your daughter, give me a bit more credit,” Byleth responded, feeling his arms tighten around her as his chest moves up and down as he lets out a hearty chuckle.

“I suppose you’re right,” he says, releasing Byleth. Though it was summer, as soon as she was free from her father’s arms, she missed his warmth. She’s always been a bit of a daddy’s girl, though she supposed that could be expected considering that she had no memories of her mother. Byleth honestly doesn’t remember much of her early childhood, but the has one very distinct memory.

When she was small and couldn’t sleep, Jeralt would hold her in his arms, and she would listen to his heartbeat. _Lub-dub, lub-dub._ Surely enough, every time she heard the familiar beating, she would fall asleep within minutes. Though this serenity that she found listening to her father’s heart lead her to several questions. Why didn’t she have one?

Byleth never got a direct answer from her father, so eventually, she stopped asking. Though she was still curious, it didn’t plague her mind nearly as much as it did when she was a child. After all, she’s been a bit more preoccupied than she was back then.

Alisha’s voice snapped Byleth back to reality as she gave Jeralt a brief report of what happened during their time in Almyra, as well as during their journey back. She recounted the deaths of Ronan and several of the other mercenaries. Byleth felt her stomach twist as she watched Jeralt’s expression change from one of compassion to an unreadable one. It was an expression that Byleth was all too familiar with seeing on her father’s face. He was a master at concealing his emotions. And it wasn’t all that long ago that Byleth was the same way as him.

Byleth lost track of the conversation after a while; it wasn’t until Jeralt said something about honouring the dead that she tuned back in. Jeralt and the other mercenaries would typically have a toast in remembrance of the fallen as they share stories or memories of their time with one another. Byleth had never joined in on the celebration of life before. Ronan would typically take her to the side under the guise of studying, while the rest of the adults drank themselves silly. This time, however, Byleth was invited to join in the memorial. After all, Ronan was gone. There was no one else she could spend her time with as they mourned in their own way.

So, she accepted. Saying goodbye to Lissa and thanking her for healing Byleth’s wounds, they headed to the nearby tavern where the rest of the mercenaries were. After explaining what had happened to their comrades, they all ordered a round of drinks to toast their friends. When Jeralt placed a pint in front of Byleth, the young girl looked up at her father curiously.

“What?” Jeralt asked as he sat down next to her, taking a swig of his own. “You didn’t think that you were gonna be excluded from this, were you?”

“I’ve never had alcohol before,” Byleth admitted, looking at the beverage in front of her curiously.

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Jeralt said, gesturing to the drink. “Help yourself.”

“You’re my dad, should you really be enabling this?” she picked up her glass and sniffed the beer before taking a drink, her face scrunching up in disgust as soon as it touched her tongue. “Ugh! It tastes like earwax! How the hell do you like this stuff?!”

Jeralt let out a chuckle as he removed the pint glass from in front of her, putting it beside his own. He proceeded to the bar and order another drink, returning with a glass of wine for Byleth instead. Giving him a sceptical look, she took the wine from him as she took a hesitant drink. She paused for a few seconds before taking another sip.

“It’s a lot better than the other one,” she commented, swirling the red liquid around the cup, “thank you.”

“Wine’s probably a better starting alcohol than beer,” Jeralt noted, looking between his beverages and hers. “It’s basically fermented juice. I just can’t believe that you’ve never drank before.”

“Why’s that surprising?” Byleth asked, raising an eyebrow as she gave her father a side-eye.

“Cause you’re my kid!” Jeralt let out a hearty laugh as he took a large swig of his beer. Byleth picked up her wine glass and took another sip. It was thankfully becoming better the more she drank from it. “So, what was Almyra like?”

“It was hot,” Byleth responded instantly. There were a lot of things that she could say about Almyra, but she wasn’t sure what details her father wanted to know. She debated upon if she should bring up Khalid, but she wasn’t sure how to go about starting that conversation. Not to mention that remembering that Alisha suggested that she hide her ring earlier, she couldn’t help but wonder what assumptions about their relationship the brunette came up with. Especially considering what a ring typically indicated.

So, deciding against bringing him up directly, Byleth reached into her bag. She gave a glare at the journal that was tucked in the bottom of her bag as she pulled out her sketchbook. Byleth knew she would have to be careful about what she put into the journal because it wasn’t affected when she rewound time. However, that was something that she would have to contemplate later.

Laying her sketchbook on the table in front of them, Byleth opens it up to show Jeralt the landscape drawings she did of Almyra. She allowed her father to flip through them, hoping that he wouldn’t realise how many drawings she did of Khalid. To be fair, Byleth also sketched several other locals that she frequently saw (especially at the market).

“Wow, kid,” Jeralt let out a low whistle as he flipped through the pages, “these are beautiful. You’ve sure come a long way from when I first got you a sketchbook.”

Byleth could feel her cheeks go pink at the praise, but she tried to play off just how much work she put into her artwork. “I just had a lot to work with. I wanted to be able to remember everything from Almyra. I just wish that… things could have ended differently.”

“Lisha told me what happened,” Jeralt told her, flipping through another page, and stopping. Byleth looked over and cursed as she saw where he had paused. “This is the prince, right?”

“Yeah, Prince Khalid,” it felt odd addressing him so formally, but Byleth figured it was going to become something that she would have to get used to sooner or later. “I was giving him sword lessons at his combat instructors request.”

“And how’d that go?” Jeralt sounded impressed with Byleth, which just made her frown.

“Badly,” Byleth didn’t elaborate any further, and Jeralt didn’t push the subject any. “What have you been up to anyway?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Jeralt took another swig of his beer. “After taking care of what needed to be done in Sauin, we came here to Daphnel. We’ve been taking job-after-job in the area while we waited for you guys to come back. Those merchants sure took their sweet time, didn’t they? You’ve grown at least an inch since I’ve last seen you.”

“My hair, maybe,” Byleth picked up a lock of her blue hair as she looked at the length. It was getting pretty long; she’d have to cut it soon or else it could be a hazard in battle. “But I’m pretty sure I’m done growing.”

“Maybe it’s just my imagination. But you’re still young; it won’t surprise me if you still had a bit to go yet.”

“Hey, how old am I anyway?” at Byleth’s question, Jeralt simply shrugged as he finished the last of his beer and moved onto Byleth’s abandoned one. “Do you at least know when my birthday is?”

“Where are these questions suddenly coming from?” Jeralt questioned, causing Byleth looked down at her wine and shrug, taking another sip. Letting out a sigh, Jeralt rubbed the back of his neck as he softened his tone. “Do you want to start celebrating it?”

“It’s fine,” Byleth told her father, putting a smile on her face as she looked at her father. “I was just curious, don’t worry. I know you’re bad with dates anyway. Say, do you know what the date even is?”

“Hey, I might be forgetful, but I’m not senile,” Jeralt joked, gently bumping Byleth on her shoulder. “It’s the twenty-fourth day of the Blue Sea Moon; I’ll have you know.”

‘ _Happy birthday, Khalid.’_ Byleth thought to herself as she took a sip of her wine. Little did she know, Khalid was thinking the same thing to her all the way from Almyra.

* * *

_Blue Sea Moon_

_Imperial Year 1178_

* * *

_Madinalmuluk Palace, Almyra_

* * *

“Happy birthday, _abnay_ ,” Tiana kissed her son on the cheek as she looked up at him. The boy—no, that wasn’t right—the _young man_ has officially surpassed his mother in terms of height.

“Yeah, happy birthday…” he muttered, causing his mother to raise an eyebrow at him. He had a far-away look in his eye, and she knew what that meant.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you? Byleth?” Tiana recollected the story that her dearest son had told about the mercenary girl knowing when her birthday was, so the two of them decided to celebrate their birthdays together. She was honestly surprised when he told her the story, but it didn’t make her any less proud to call him her son.

“How can I not? I was completely alone before I met her.”

“Don’t let your little sister hear that. She’ll feel left out. Though, I suppose you don’t let her feel left out, do you?” Tiana gestures towards the lock of Khalid’s hair that was longer than the rest, which was woven into a neat little braid. He reached up and twisted the braid between his fingers.

“You remember what Omera was like last time I got a haircut,” he sighed, letting go of his braid. “She wouldn’t stop crying because that meant she couldn’t braid my hair anymore.”

“You’ve got to admit, the practice is doing her well,” Tiana remarked. “To be three-years-old and be able to braid like that? Unless you’ve been helping her with it a bit more than you’re letting on?”

“Hey, of course I’m going to help her!” Khalid pouted, causing Tiana to laugh. Even though he was becoming more of a man every year, he would always be her little boy. “I grew up alone because I was alienated, so I’m going to make sure that she has a better childhood than that.”

“Are you now?” The tone of Tiana’s voice causes Khalid to quirk an eyebrow at her, as she walks past him, gesturing for him to follow. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he followed alongside her as they walked through the palace corridors. “It’s about time I let you know what your birthday present is, don’t you think?”

“And we’re going where exactly for that?” Khalid questioned. “Are we going outside? Is it a wyvern? Did you get me a wyvern? Please be a wyvern…”

“Sorry, _abnay_ , not this year,” a playful smirk formed on Tiana’s face as she looked over to her son. “But I assure you, it’s much better than a wyvern.”

Walking into a room in the palace that Tiana deemed worthy of being her office, she closed the door behind them. On her desk sat a small chocolate cake, with miniature fireworks sticking out of it.

“This _is_ better than a wyvern!” Khalid joked as Tiana rolled her eyes.

“The cake is only in here to hide it from your sister,” she explained. “You know how she gets when she has too much sugar.”

Both of them shivered at the thought. Tiana was the first of the two to snap back to reality though, as she picked up her flint and steel, lighting the wicks on the fireworks, before standing back. In seconds, the two of them watched as the miniature fireworks came to life. They sent a small stream of sparks into the air above the cake, before they eventually burned out, leaving behind small, boring flames on their tops.

“Well,” Tiana gestured towards the used fireworks, which were now acting as candles for the cake, “make a wish.”

Letting out a laugh at his mother’s enthusiasm for his birthday, Khalid walked over to the cake and blew out the “candles” to humour her, making sure to make a wish as he did so. He was well aware that if he didn’t, she would know. After all, there wasn’t much that Tiana wasn’t able to figure out about someone. One way or another, she always got what she wanted.

“Congratulations, Claude. Your wish is going to come true.”

“And how do you know what I wished for?” he challenged, putting a hand on his hip as he looked at his mother expectantly.

“My brother died,” Tiana told him casually, causing her son’s eyes to widen at her nonchalant attitude as he takes a step back, replaying her words again in his mind.

“I’m sorry, but _how does this grant my wish_?!”

“Claude.”

“Oh, let me rephrase that,” Khalid took a deep breath before clearing his throat, clapping his hands together as he looked his mother in the eye. “I’m sorry for your loss. But… how does _this_ grant my wish?”

“Trust me; it’s a good thing for you. He’s a noble.”

“Okay?” Khalid gives his mother an odd expression as he attempts to evaluate what that meant in his head. However, he was too busy pondering over the reason why Tiana was happy about her brother’s demise that he wasn’t able to come up with an appropriate reason and continued speaking. “I’m sorry, but in what way is this a good thing?! Like, last time I checked the death of a family member was a bad thing. Isn’t it still a bad thing?!”

“Claude!” Tiana’s sharp voice snapped Khalid out of his dilemma as he looked at his mother for clarification. “You’re not focusing on the whole picture, instead of nit-picking out the details you don’t like, think about what I’m saying as a collective. My brother is a noble in _Fódlan._ Though I’ll admit that hearing of his passing is unfortunate, I can’t admit I’m too heartbroken over it. My brother was a less-than-savoury man. He takes after our father in that way.”

“Isn’t he your only brother, though?”

“That is correct, do you know what that means?” Tiana watched as the gears turned in Khalid’s head as he realises what that could mean for him. His eyes widened as he started pointing out every fault that he could think of in her plan.

“But I’m half-Almyran!”

“I know.”

“And I’m supposed to take over as king someday!”

“Indeed, you are.”

“And your father doesn’t even know me, what if he hates me?!”

“Claude, do you want to go to Fódlan or not?” Tiana’s voice once again snapped Khalid out of his daze, as he shut his mouth for a moment to determine what he wanted. Tiana was well aware of what his wish was, perhaps even more than he did. And after a minute of contemplation, he looked at his mother, a new-found fire in his eyes.

“More than anything.”

* * *

_Great Tree Moon_

_Imperial Year 1180_

* * *

_Forest Near Remire Village_

* * *

“Let’s go people! We need to find a place to set up camp before nightfall!” Jeralt called back to the group behind him as they traversed through the forests of the Adrestian Empire. They had just caught wind of a job within the Kingdom and had decided to take it. They had been avoiding the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus entirely for the past four years because of what transpired during the Tragedy of Duscur. Or more accurately, because of what transpired afterwards. Most of the jobs people had tried to get mercenaries in the Kingdom have been… _unspeakable_.

It terrified Byleth just what people were willing to resort to because of blind hatred. She had a feeling that she wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with it since nobody had complained about their evasion of taking jobs there. However, in recent years, things seemed to have calmed down a bit in the Kingdom, and the jobs being offered weren’t nearly as questionable.

Letting out a yawn, Byleth rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she followed behind her father. She had been exhausted lately and couldn’t seem to regain her energy no matter how much she slept. It didn’t help that she would be met with a nightmare nearly every time she closed her eyes. The only nights that she had solace were the night she was able to find her way into Sothis’s throne room before the nightmares set it.

She couldn’t help but question why Sothis was always in a throne room when they were in her mind, but neither of the girls could answer the question. Byleth had offered the thought that Sothis was actually a spirit of a princess, but Sothis quickly dismissed that theory, arguing that she was very much alive.

“You okay there, kid?” Alisha’s voice rang out from beside her, causing Byleth to glance over. The look on Alisha’s face was one of concern—one that Byleth had seen far more frequently—directed at her. Holding back another yawn, Byleth nodded.

“I’m just tired,” Byleth informed her, it technically wasn’t a lie. “We’ve been on the move for days; how are you not even a bit worn out?”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been getting a full night’s sleep,” Alisha gave Byleth a pointed look, being met with a sheepish smile. “You do realise that we share a tent, right? I've noticed you going on more and more 'early morning fishing trips'. You have barely slept, kid."

"I'm fine; I just haven't been able to sleep lately."

"If you say so. I guess we’re just lucky enough you haven’t resorted to sleepwalking.”

“Is that a thing that people actually do?” Byleth asked, raising her eyebrows.

“You didn’t think that the ‘ _Vanishing from Hrym_ ’ was just an old wives tale, did you?”

Byleth knew the story she was referring to. It was a warning tale about children who would sleepwalk into the forest, never to be seen again. It served to remind parents to lock their doors at night and to check on their children before bed. Though, based on Byleth’s near-death experience in the Hrym Mountains, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason for those tales. One that didn’t involve sleepwalking.

“Did you notice anything odd when we passed through the Hrym Mountains on our way to Almyra?” Byleth found herself asking, causing Alisha to let out a bark of laughter.

“Ah, the horrifying memories are coming back to me now! The sound of children crying in the woods!” Alisha laughed some more. “Kid, that was over five years ago. I barely remember what I ate for breakfast.”

“It was a stupid question,” Byleth admitted, nodding her head slowly in agreement. However, when Alisha mentioned hearing the sound of children crying in the woods, Byleth swore that she could hear whimpers off in the distance. She was about to pass it off as being overly tired before noticing that Alisha’s jovial expression dropped as she looked off in the distance.

“Did you hear that?” Alisha’s voice was low but firm, causing the nearby mercenaries to come to a halt as they all tried to listen in to whatever it was Alisha heard. Surely enough, the weeping seemed to be nearing the caravan.

Byleth instinctually reached towards her sword, as she looked through the brush for any sign of movement. Jeralt raised his hand as he motioned for the mercenaries to wait before taking action. He took a careful step towards the sound, his hand hovering over his weapon as he called out.

“Hello?” a gasp was heard from the brush as the whimpering became muffled. Jeralt gave the mercenaries a pointed look, as they all came to the same conclusion: it was a person. “We’re not going to hurt you; we’re just passing through.”

To no one’s surprise, they were met with silence. After all, they were strangers out in the forest. Whoever they were speaking with was obviously afraid. However, they had a plan for how to deal with situations like these. Letting out a sigh, Byleth released the hilt of her sword as she walked over to Jeralt. They shared a look, before turning back towards the forest.

“Hey,” Byleth’s voice was softer than usual, as she tried her best appear nonthreatening. Though Byleth was far from harmless, she knew that from an outsider’s perspective, a young woman was less intimidating than a large, adult male. “It sounded like you were crying, are you alright?”

Despite Byleth’s lack of experience in the art of comforting somebody, it had seemed that her calm demeanour had been enough to gain some ounce of trust. A young boy peeked out from behind a tree as he looked at Jeralt and Byleth. As they both showed them his hands to prove that they were unarmed, he emerged from behind the tree, sniffling as he did so.

“I want my momma,” the young boy cried out, looking at the mercenaries with teary eyes, “can y-you bring me to her?”

“Where is she?” Jeralt asked, kneeling to the same height as the boy.

“R-Remire Village.”

“We’re not too far away from there,” Jeralt gave the boy a warm smile as he approached them, “we can bring you back no problem.”

“Really?” the boy looked at Jeralt as though he was some kind of hero from a fairy tale. With a nod, Jeralt looked over at his horse, Barbary.

“Of course, have you ever ridden a horse before?”

The mercenaries got moving again as soon as they got the boy situated on top of Barbary, and he explained to them how he had been playing a game of hide-and-seek with his friends, but nobody came to find him. When he found tried to find his way back to the village, he ended up getting lost.

Remire Village was only about a fifteen-minute walk away, so they didn’t have to go too far out of their way to bring the boy home. As soon as they arrived, a frazzled-looking woman came running over and swept the child up into her arms, embracing him tightly.

“Oh, Erik! You silly, silly boy!” she scolded as soon as she released him. “How many times have I told you not to play in the woods!”

“I’m sorry, momma,” Erik apologised, before turning to the mercenaries with a toothy smile. “But these nice people brought me back home!”

“Erik!” a little girl came running over to Erik, pulling him into a tight embrace before letting go and punching him in the arm. “You made me worry, you dummy! Don’t do that again!”

“Thank you for bringing my son back to me,” the mother thanked the mercenaries, trying to smooth out her tangled hair as she looked upon the men and women who saved her child. Her thankful gaze paused as her eyes landed on Jeralt, as recognition flashed across her face. “Wait, I know you!”

“You do?” Jeralt seemed surprised by the woman’s statement, and she nodded her head excitedly.

“Jeralt the Blade Breaker!” she exclaimed. “I was just a child the last time you were in the village, but I remember you were staying at my mother’s inn with your baby!”

Turning towards Byleth, the woman gave her a look up-and-down, a broad smile on her face. “Your father didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a kid; it’s thanks to my mother that you’re even alive right now!”

“Really?” this was the first time that Byleth had heard anything about Remire Village or having been there before.

“Yes!” the woman turned towards Jeralt and clasped her hands together, as though in prayer. “Please, you must come to see my mother! She’ll be thrilled to see that you’re back, she’ll probably even let you stay at the inn for a night! Just between you and I, she had some doubts about your capabilities as a parent,” she once again spared a glance towards Byleth, her smile widening, “she’ll be glad to see that she was wrong for once.”

“I don’t know about—” before they could protest, the woman grabbed him and Byleth by their wrists as she dragged them towards the town inn. Though Byleth knew that Jeralt could easily avoid being pulled if he wanted to, she noticed that he didn’t. He had already made up his mind about staying the night in the town, and Byleth hoped that it wasn’t just for her sake.

The inn wasn’t large by any means. If it hadn’t been for the sign outside, Byleth could have quickly passed it off as a house. Walking through the front door, the first thing that Byleth noticed was two long tables sitting parallel to one another. Wooden benches were resting on either side of the tables for people to sit on. In the corner of the room, an elderly woman sat, her back facing them as she focused on her knitting. She showed no sign of disturbance at their entrance into the inn.

“Welcome back, Astrid,” she greeted, as the younger woman, Astrid, finally released the hands of Byleth and her father. “These are the ones who brought back Erik, yes? It’s nice to see that you’re doing well, Jeralt.”

Byleth gave the old woman a curious look; they hadn’t even been in town for more than ten minutes, and yet she already knew who they were. As if feeling her eyes, the woman finally looked from her knitting, her gaze meeting Byleth’s.

“You must be the child then,” she acknowledged, “it’s nice to see you’re not dead.”

“You really had no faith in me, did you, Gertrud?” Jeralt deadpanned, causing the old woman to let out a soft chuckle as she got up from her seat, walking over to the mercenaries.

“Let me get a good look at you,” Gertrud spoke to Byleth, giving the bluenette a thorough inspection. Byleth fidgeted a bit under the elderly woman’s stare, not used to having so many people pay such close attention to her. First, it was Astrid. Now it was Gertrud. She understood that the last time they likely saw her was when she was a baby but did that really mean that they had to stare for so long?

However, unlike with Astrid, it didn’t feel as though Gertrud was taking in her appearance. It felt as though she was looking deeper into Byleth. Like she was peering into her very soul.

“You’re growing into a fine young woman,” Gertrud closed her eyes as she let out a soft sigh. “You’ve got a soul of one far beyond her years, though I suspect that’s no surprise considering who you are. I’d never forget those green eyes.”

“My eyes are blue,” Byleth informed the old woman, who gave her an indiscernible look as she spared Byleth’s eyes a second glance.

“I suppose that they are,” she noted. “You’re a very special girl; I’m sure you’ll make a certain somebody very happy in the near future.”

“Let’s hope it’s not too near,” Jeralt grumbled, attracting Gertrud’s attention as she clicked her tongue at the man’s remark.

“You’re staying the night here then?” it was more of a statement than a question, considering she was already walking towards the desk in the corner to get the keys for the rooms. “It is nearly nightfall, after all. These words are dangerous at night. Never know when you’ll run into bandits.”

“Mother, don’t try to scare them,” Astrid reprimanded the old woman, “you know we don’t typically have an issue with bandits around here.”

“Her concern comes out of a good place, I’m sure,” Jeralt commented, looking out the window at his mercenaries who were waiting outside. They were unsure about what was going on. Still, they were waiting patiently for their next order, an admirable quality that his soldiers possessed—even though most of them weren’t actually soldiers. “We’ll stay until dawn, but then we’ve got to get going if we want to make it to our next job.”

“Good choice,” Gertrud agreed, setting the keys onto the table. Jeralt picked up one of them and handed it to Byleth, giving her a pointed look.

“Get some sleep.”

* * *

_Despite the snow, Byleth found herself not minding the cold air. She knew this scene; she’s seen it hundreds of times before. White feathers were falling from the sky in a sort of dance around her. She wanted to stay like that forever, just standing there and watching the snowfall. It would be a much better sight than whatever was in store for her._

_But things didn’t go as planned. They never did._

_Byleth’s body moved against her wishes as it trekked onwards, leaving red footprints in the fresh snow beneath her. Her gaze shifted from the snowflakes and to the stone rooftops as she searched anything that didn’t belong._

_Surely enough, her suspicions had appeared to be well placed. A flash of silver flew from the heavens towards an unsuspecting target, a young boy with curly brown hair and bright green eyes._

_“Khalid!” Byleth heard herself scream, as she watched the boy fall limply to the ground, the white snow beneath him slowly staining red. Her head whipped towards the direction the silver came from, towards a masked figure standing on a nearby rooftop staring down at her curiously._

_Gripping the handle of her sword, she swiftly removed it from its sheath as she bolted in the direction of the stranger. As soon as she was within range, she cast a blast of fire below her in an attempt to boost herself to the roof._

_Or at least, she attempted too._

_However, as she moved to cast, she found herself unable to create any sort of spark. Glancing down at her hands, Byleth felt her eyes widen. They were covered in blood._

_The runes that she had previously painted on her hands have been destroyed by the crimson, so she found herself unable cast at the moment. If she wanted to use her magic, she would have to draw a new rune._

_Byleth found herself cursing. She knew most mages were able to either draw a rune in the air or use one that had been etched into their tome. But she didn’t have that luxury._

_She wasn’t like most mages; in fact, she wasn’t a mage. She was a sword fighter with magical capability. As such, she didn’t have as much expertise when it came to spell casting—the reason Byleth always drew runes on her before she fought was because she would use her books as reference. Byleth couldn’t always remember the different runes from memory; after all, she hadn’t been trained in actual combat for more than a few months. Not to mention that she couldn’t carry around a tome alongside her sword._

_So, she had taken to painting the runes onto her skin when she had her book. When she had a visual image in front of her, she had no problem remembering what spell was attached to each._

_Glaring at the rooftop, it looked as if the enemy standing on top was mocking her because of her incapability of getting to them. Byleth let out a growl as she screamed up to them. “If you think you’re so much better than me, then come down here and fight me yourself!”_

_The figure seemed to take that as a challenge, leaping off of the rooftop and landing gracefully behind her. Byleth whipped around, her sword raised into a low defensive position as she eyed the figure carefully. Reaching up to their mask, her foe removed it, dropping it to the ground between them._

_“Do you really think you can beat me?” the voice in front of her was all too familiar, and Byleth could feel her palms get sweaty as she tried not to lose her control. She was standing face-to-face with a reflection of herself, after all. The only difference between them was the sadistic smile on her counterpart's face._

_Before Byleth could move, her opponent pulled out another silver dagger and threw it at her, piercing through her heart._

_Byleth could feel her body drop to the ground as the blood oozed from her wound, yet despite knowing that she was on the verge of dying, her consciousness didn’t fade in the slightest as her twin knelt to look at her, her twisted smile turning into one of a pout._

_“Pathetic, really. For someone who’s supposed to be me, you sure are weak. That’s what you get for allowing yourself to care about others. Sooner or later, they’re all going to wind up dead, you know? Even you.”_

_Reaching over, she grabbed the knife that was in Byleth’s chest and twisted it, before pulling it out. Byleth could feel herself hissing at the pain, but she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of hearing her scream._

_“How are you not dead yet? I stabbed you through the heart. Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a heart, do you? Monsters like you don’t get a heart.” The blade once again plunged through Byleth’s chest._

_“Monsters like you don’t get friends.”_

_Stab._

_“Monsters like you don’t get happy endings.”_

_Stab._

_Stab._

_STAB._

* * *

Awakening with a jolt, Byleth gasped for air as she shot up out of bed, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her hand flew up to her chest as she tried to steady her breathing, reminding herself that it was merely another nightmare she had been faced against.

The dreams had started about five years ago, right after they had arrived in Daphnel. They had started out as just being memories, ranging from good to bad. However, it didn’t take long before the memories began getting corrupted. They started getting darker. Bloodier.

This had been the first time that Byleth’s enemy had been herself, however. She’s dealt with countless scenarios with various enemies. Usually, it would be a bandit or an assassin. Occasionally, it would be Ronan, trying to get revenge from beyond the grave for having a part in his death. Sometimes it would be Khalid, who was still angry at her for abandoning him. Hell, every now and again it would even be Jeralt and Alisha. Though in any situation involving those she cared about, she never fought back.

The nightmares wouldn’t typically end until she died. Though she'd fight back, her aggressor would usually end up disarming her, and she would be unable to use any magic because her hands would almost always be stained in blood, ruining her runes.

Though in all honesty, Byleth supposed that there was some truth in the last detail. She hadn’t performed magic since Ronan had died. Though magic had been the only long-range fighting that she knew, she just couldn’t bring herself to continuing her reason studies to gain any more magical prowess.

Luckily, she hadn’t completely abandoned her schooling. Jeralt made sure to that, though he was far from a studious man himself. He preferred to do hands-on teaching when it came to combat. However, he still made an effort to do it.

“ **Are you alright?** ” Sothis’s voice startled Byleth more than it should have, but she chalked it up to being on edge because of her dream. “ **That was some nightmare you had. To be murdered by a copycat of yourself after watching her kill the prince… the mind is a twisted thing, surely. Is there any explanation to the sudden increase in nightmares?** ”

“I don’t know…” Byleth admitted as she replayed the nightmare in her mind. “Stress, perhaps?”

“ **That certainly would make sense,** ” Sothis agreed. “ **You are given no time to relax between jobs. These past years have been more brutal than your younger ones; I cannot help but wonder if being exposed to such grotesque sights would be detrimental to one as young as yourself.** ”

“I’m not a child…” Byleth sighed, rubbing her face as she tried to wake up. “Though, I hadn’t started having nightmares like these until after Ronan’s death.”

“ **Peculiar,** ” Sothis noted, and Byleth had a mental image of her gently nodding her head in thought. “ **It would seem that these nightmares are connected with Ronan’s death. Do you think they’re connected with the fear of losing the ones you care for?** ”

“Maybe…”

That theory certainly wouldn’t be ridiculous. Ronan had been like an older brother to Byleth, after all. It would make sense that his death would have caused her to realise one’s mortality. No one could live forever, after all. But what did that fear have to do with them trying to kill Byleth? Was she afraid that they were going to betray her? Or was there more to it than that?

Byleth could barely stop herself from jumping in surprise when Jeralt entered the room.

“Are you alright?” Jeralt’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked upon his daughter in concern. Byleth’s eyes met with her fathers, and she forced a small smile onto her face as she ruffled her sweat-damp hair, trying to unstick it from her skin. But fixing her hair couldn’t hide the pale shade of her skin or the dark bags under her eyes. She just hoped that he didn’t hear her speaking to Sothis. “You’re looking a bit…”

“Like shit?” Byleth offered, causing Jeralt to shake his head.

“I was going to say rough.”

“But you were thinking shit,” Byleth wouldn’t blame him if he had been, after all, she knew that she had been looking like a walking zombie for the past few weeks. The nightmares had gone from being a semi-regular appearance to being nightly. “I’m fine, really. Just another nightmare.”

Byleth knew that it was no use hiding it from her father. He was a perceptive man; there was no doubt in her mind that he’d figure it out if he hadn’t already. She was still surprised that she had managed to keep her other secrets for so long. Her time manipulation, Divine Pulse, Sothis had begun calling it, had really come in handy.

“Again? You’ve been having a lot of them lately,” Jeralt let out a sigh, as Byleth got out of the bed, smoothing out her clothing. She walked over to her bag as she began packing her things, knowing that they were likely to head out soon. “You know I’m always here if you ever want to talk about them, right?”

“I know,” Byleth responded without looking up. “We’re leaving at dawn, right?”

“Byleth…”

“Yes?”

“I think you should sit out on the next job,” Jeralt said, though his tone was gentle, his words were enough to get Byleth’s full attention. She turned from her bag and stood up, looking at the taller man in disbelief.

“Dad, I’m fine,” Byleth insisted, gesturing down at herself, “really. I haven’t gotten injured in over a month. I’ve been being more careful like you’ve been telling me to.”

Jeralt gave Byleth a doubtful look as she unsheathed her dagger from her belt and tossed it up in the air, catching it by the handle with her other hand. She continued juggling the dagger back-and-forth for a few moments as her father watched, as though to prove her point.

“See, my reflexes are fine!” Byleth continued, sheathing her dagger as she picked up her bag, tossing it over her shoulder. “Besides, our next job’s in the Kingdom! It’s been _years_ since we’ve been there.”

The last time that Byleth remembered being in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus was during the war with Sreng. They spent around a year in the capital of Fhirdiad, Byleth choosing to spend most of her time trying to unravel the mystery of Sothis. Though it had proven to be unsuccessful, she had a lot of fond memories from her time there.

“Well, I guess that means that you’ll have plenty of time to explore the area while the rest of us are busy,” Jeralt’s voice put up no room for argument, but that didn’t stop Byleth from opening her mouth in an attempt to protest. Before she could get a word out, the door once again slammed open as a breathless mercenary ran in.

“Jeralt! Sir!” the mercenary greeted, trying to pretend as though he wasn’t panting. “Sorry to barge in… but your, uh… presence is needed.” Though Byleth was relieved that the attention was drawn away from her, she couldn’t help but feel that this was a bad thing.

“What happened?” Jeralt questioned, and the mercenary took a few more breaths before responding.

“It’s best if you see for yourself…” he said, glancing between Jeralt and Byleth, having just now noticed her presence in the room. “Both of you…”

The mercenary ushered them outside of the inn, where the rest of the group waited, whispering amongst themselves. Byleth raised an eyebrow as she glanced among the others, trying to figure out what got them so worked up. Usually this early in the morning none of them had more to say than a ‘good morning’ while they all tried to wake up.

Her question was answered within moments, as her eyes landed on three figures that she didn’t recognise as part of the mercenary band. The first figure was the only female of the trio. She looked to be a refined young woman, with long white hair and intelligent lilac eyes that seemed to be assessing the mercenaries around her. Her gaze met Byleth’s own, and she gave the bluenette a curious look.

Trying to pretend as though she wasn’t staring, Byleth shifted her eyes to the next figure, the tallest of the three. He had a sincere expression on his face as he waited patiently for Jeralt to speak with him. However, there was a look in his blue eye that Byleth was all too familiar with. It was something that she had seen in her own plenty. There was no doubt a darkness lurking beneath the surface, and Byleth couldn’t help but wonder what the boy had gone through. He seemed just as refined as the girl to his side, though Byleth knew that she couldn’t judge someone on appearances alone.

As she turned to the last figure, she felt a pang through her chest as she unconsciously reached up to touch her necklace. Though the ring was hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt, she could feel it clear as day against her skin. He held a different aura than the other two he stood with—one that was so familiar yet so foreign to Byleth. Standing there with his curly brown hair and bright green eyes stood a young man with a _striking_ resemblance to her childhood friend. Surely it must be her mind playing a trick on her after her nightmare. There was no way that it could be him, right?

Without realising, Byleth opened her mouth to call out to him. However, she didn’t get a chance to get out the first syllable before she was cut off by her father.

“What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?” Byleth changed the ‘Kh’ into a sigh, trying to have it seem natural as she followed behind her father to the trio. Byleth knew that she would look like a fool if she were to call this man by a different name if she was wrong. Even if she could go back with a Divine Pulse (seriously, why did Sothis name it that?) she knew she would never forget the embarrassment. The best way to figure out the truth was to get a closer look at the man.

“Sorry about my father’s lack of tact,” she apologised, as the three newcomers turned their attention towards her. Though she was sure that the two fair-haired individuals were giving her an interesting look, her focus was on the lookalike. She was hoping that she would see something in his emerald eyes to give her the confirmation that she needed. She hoped to see a flash of recognition or even a smile. Maybe even something similar to the look that Astrid had given her the night before. She needed _something._

However, it would seem as though the goddess hadn’t received her prayer, because she was given nothing to signify that he had the faintest clue who she was. In fact, the young man didn’t even spare her a second look before turning his attention back to his companions.

“Please forgive our intrusion,” the blond-haired man apologised, offering a bow to the mercenaries in front of him. “We wouldn’t bother you were the situation not dire. However, we’re being pursued by a group of bandits. I can only hope that you will be so kind as to lend your support.”

“Bandits? Here?” at that Jeralt raised an eyebrow, peering into the distance for any sign of the so-called ‘bandits’. Byleth finally drew her gaze away from the mysterious doppelgänger as she scanned over the group for any hint of deceit.

“It's true,” the white-haired woman confirmed, as though her word would be more believable than the last. “They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp. Though we’ve succeeded in outrunning them, it’ll only be a matter of time before they catch up to us.”

“We’ve been separated from our companions, and we’re outnumbered,” the green-eyed man added. “Talk about divide-and-conquer. They’re after our lives… not to mention our gold.”

“We have to help them,” Byleth stated, turning towards Jeralt who was carefully considering the situation.

“I agree,” he started, giving each of the youths a sharp look. “I’m impressed you’re all staying so calm considering the situation. Are you—"

“Bandits spotted just outside the village!” a voice shouted, they all turned to look at another mercenary who was dashing in their direction. “There are a lot of them!”

Remembering her previous argument with her father, Byleth knew that she had to act fast if she wanted to do something to help. Dropping her bag onto the ground, she started advancing towards the treeline. “I’ll go scout ahead—I’ll see if there’s a way we can take them by surprise.”

“Byleth! Wait—” Byleth didn’t bother to stick around to hear Jeralt’s objections, causing the man to let out a sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Dammit! She’s going to get herself killed if she keeps this up…”

Turning his gaze, he looked upon the three youths in front of him, relief flooding his features as he realised that they were all armed. And if those uniforms were any indicators, they were students at the Officer’s Academy.

“Even though you brought them here, we’ll help you deal with them. After all, we can’t abandon this village to those bastards; there are a lot of good people here. You kids know how to fight, right?”

The three of them shared a look, before nodding, pulling out their weapons. Jeralt’s eyes scanned over them one more time, before landing on the boy with a bow. He couldn’t explain it, but something about the boy looked oddly familiar. He didn’t like it. However, he was the only one of the three with a long-ranged weapon, and he couldn’t just leave his daughter out there alone with a pack of bandits.

“Hope you’re good with that thing,” Jeralt said, gesturing towards the boy’s bow. “Because I’m going to need you to go and give my daughter some backup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to kudos and comment! I love hearing everyone's thoughts and speculations!


	10. An Inevitable Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Khalid…?” she exhaled, and Claude felt his heart drop. He knew that he should use this opportunity to be honest to her. There was nothing that he wanted more than to tell her the truth. But now that he was faced with the decision, he knew that he couldn’t. There was no way that telling her would lead to a happy ending. He knew that he had to put aside his desires in order to achieve his goals. So, he did what he did best. He lied.
> 
> “Sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” Claude put on his most dazzling smile as he offered her a hand. “Can’t say that I blame you for the confusion though, that was one nasty hit you took.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Claude!!!!!!! <3
> 
> This chapter isn't as long as I would have liked it to be (Despite it being over 7,000 words, I still had another two scenes planned) however, I wanted to get it out by today in celebration of Claude! Plus, I realised that what I had planned will flow better with what I've got in store for Chapter 11!
> 
> To those who didn't see, for the first day of Claudeleth week, I posted a side story based on what happens between Chapter 12 and 13, although those two chapters currently aren't posted (Chapter 11 is gonna be a LONG one, and probably isn't going to be released until mid/late August because of certain events going on in my life during the beginning of August (mainly the stresses of moving) it will be released at some point next month!)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Happy Claudeleth week!

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_x. an inevitable encounter_

* * *

_Earlier That Night_

* * *

_Campsite, Forest Near Garreg Mach Monastery_

* * *

“I still don’t understand the point of this camping trip,” Claude remarked, cracking his knuckles as he looked upon his yellow tent in pride. For having never pitched a Fódlan tent before, he was relieved to see that he had managed to get it to vaguely resemble one on his first try.

“Whatever do you mean?” Claude lazily spared a glance in the direction of Dimitri’s blue tent, which was set up even worse than his own. He was relieved to see that he wasn’t the only prince that was clueless when it came to camping.

“I’d get it if we were all going to be camping with the other members of our houses to get to ‘know each other’ or some shit, but we’re not.” Claude found the entire thing odd; it was only going to be the three house leaders going on a survival/camping expedition. He understood that they didn’t have much experience when it came to these sorts of things, but what about the rest of the noble students? “And not as though I’ve got anything against either of you, but aren’t we, you know, supposed to be _rivals?_ ”

“Our houses might be rivals, but the three of us are going to be prominent leaders soon,” Edelgard reminded the boy, and Claude took a look at her tent for the first time. It was, you guessed it, red! Claude found it funny just how much the academy took pride in colour-coding everything. Though he did have to give Edelgard props, her tent was set up much nicer than either of the boys, except for one issue that the brunette couldn’t resist pointing out.

“Well, _Miss Prominent Leader_ , your tent’s backwards,” at his comment, Edelgard’s posture stiffened as she inhaled sharply.

“I see…”

“Well, you certainly did a better job pitching your tent than either of us,” Dimitri complimented, attempting to ease the tension in the air. He gave Claude a pointed look, as the latter raised his hands innocently. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Where did I learn to put up a tent?” Edelgard gave Dimitri an amused look. She was still tense, but Claude noticed that her stance relaxed ever-so-slightly. “It’s not a difficult task; I simply assembled it in a way that made sense to me.”

“And backwards was what made sense to you? I mean, I understand wanting your privacy and all, but that’s what the tent’s for isn’t it? You’re going to have some wild animal wandering in or something. What if you wake up cuddling a squirrel?”

“Claude,” Dimitri sighed as he put his face in his hand as he just stared at Claude blankly as if internally contemplating if it was even worth trying to stop the man from making any more jabs at Edelgard.

“I’d rather wake up cuddling a squirrel than either of you,” Edelgard retorted, though there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. Seeing this made Claude smirk as he continued to banter with the woman.

“Not even for warmth?”

“Nope.”

“Fine, I’ll just cuddle Dimitri then,” Claude glanced towards the prince and sent him a wink, which just caused the blond’s frown to deepen.

“You will do no such thing.”

“Ouch, I’m wounded,” Claude struggled to keep a straight face as he placed a hand on his heart, as though it had just been pierced by Dimitri’s words. Dimitri was way too serious for Claude’s liking; there was no way that could be good for his health. “I really thought we had something special, Mitri-kins.”

“Please do not call me that.”

“Aww, why not?” Claude pouted, causing Edelgard to let out a gentle laugh as she shook her head at Claude’s antics.

“If you two are done flirting, I have a proposition,” Dimitri opened his mouth to deny her accusation while Claude decided to tune him out and focus on her movement. She gestured towards the new professor, a man by the name of Jeremy Falstaff, self-proclaimed “Survival Expert”. However, judging by the fact that he was having more difficulty putting up his tent than the three nobles combined, Claude figured it was safe to say that this guy was a fraud.

“ _Survival expert_ my ass,” Claude shook his head disapprovingly. The only good thing about having somebody so incompetent in a position of power was the fact Claude would be able to get around him with ease. Though it wasn’t like Claude hadn’t gotten away with some questionable things in the company of those who were actually capable.

“That fool is supposed to be our combat instructor, as well as the professor of the Golden Deer,” Edelgard stated matter-of-factly. Dimitri finally stopped rambling to look at the man who was running after a roll-away stake. “Why don’t we see if he’s better with his lance than he is with his tent stakes?”

“I dunno,” Claude made a face as the man accidentally kicked the stake away from him, causing him to have to run ever farther to retrieve it. “A lance is basically a longer stake. Assuming that he can use one of those without dropping it, he _might_ just end up kebabbing someone.”

“He could have hidden potential, lances are not a difficult weapon to wield,” Dimitri interjected. They watched Professor Jeremy finally retrieve the fallen piece of equipment before returning to his tent and jabbing it into the ground with far more force than necessary. “Though if he is as inept as he appears at first glance, isn’t it our duty to find out before one of our classmates gets injured due to his negligence?”

“In that case, I volunteer you to be the test-monkey,” Claude clapped his hand on the princes back, before pushing him forwards, towards the professor. “Lance-against-lance! What a better matchup!”

“Excellent idea having Dimitri go against the Professor rather than yourself. We’ll be able to gauge his skill far better from close-quarters combat than we would if you would have gone against him with your ranged weapon.” Edelgard remarked as they watched Dimitri walk up to Jeremy, startling the latter.

“You know that I _can_ use a sword, right?” Claude crossed his arms as he pouted at Edelgard. After all, he didn’t spend all that time with Byleth for nothing.

Okay, so maybe they didn’t do much sword fighting during practice (Claude would admit that was _mostly_ his fault). But he had enough practice to know how to hold a sword properly, as well as how to swing it. Considering the fact that neither Edelgard nor Dimitri fought with swords, he doubted that they would call his bluff.

“Besides,” Claude added, “my intentions aren't that pure. I’d just rather not get stabbed by Professor Idiot.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Edelgard told him, as they watched Dimitri walk back with Professor Jeremy. The closer that their teacher got to them, they noticed just how winded he was from his epic hunt to retrieve the tent stake.

Yeah, Claude was 99% sure that if he was their combat instructor for their time at the academy, they were royally fucked.

* * *

No more than two hours have passed since they began their combat training, and in that time, Claude learned three critical things.

One: Jeremy Falstaff was not qualified in the slightest to be the combat professor at the academy. He deserved the title of professor of the Golden Deer even _less_ than that. I mean, Claude knew that no one really gave two shits about the Deer (I mean, it _was_ called the Battle of the Eagle and Lion after all), but this was just flat out disrespectful. Dimitri, Edelgard, and Claude all managed to best the man in a collective total of five minutes.

Two: In addition to being unskilled in just about everything (at least, everything that the three house leaders have observed), it also became clear to them that the professor was also a massive coward. When a group of bandits showed up, he didn’t even make any attempt to protect his students. Instead, he screamed and hightailed it out of there. Claude had to admit, the best thing that Jeremy had going for him was his ability to run. Though being fast didn’t make you a survival expert.

Claude hadn’t even had time to crack a joke about the professor because they were left with a group of bandits who looked ready to kill. Fortunately, the three of them were armed. Unfortunately, they were also severely outnumbered. Things weren’t looking good, so, Claude decided to take a page out of their dear teacher’s book and make a strategic retreat. He just hoped that the other two would do the same.

Three: Edelgard and Dimitri did follow Claude’s lead and retreat, much to his relief. However, it was at that moment that Claude realised just how unwise that his fellow house leaders were. They quite _literally_ followed Claude’s lead, running alongside him through the forest rather than splitting off into different directions to try to separate the enemy. Though he appreciated their confidence in his plan (if it could even be called that), they were now being pursued by said bandits. And judging by how many were after the youths, Claude doubted that any of them decided to chase after their darling ex-professor.

Even though they had a head-start, he was confident that the bandits knew they wouldn’t be able to escape them. The house leaders would run out of stamina first. The only plan that Claude could think of would be to hide and take out his pursuers. However, judging by the fact that they still had the attention of _all_ of the bandits, rather than just a small chunk, he knew that they would quickly be caught. Needless to say, he threw that plan out the window.

After what felt like hours of running, the trio finally stumbled across a village of sorts. Everything was a bit of a blur as they stopped to catch their breaths. The next thing that Claude realised was they had a group of people surrounding them speaking to Dimitri. Shaking his head to try to get himself back on track, he figured it would be wise to tune into the conversation.

“You’ll have to wait for our boss before we make any promises,” one of the strangers said, giving the Faerghus prince a side-eye. “Nothin’ personal, we just usually like to know who we’re workin’ for.”

“Of course,” Dimitri replied, giving a polite bow as he wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his palm. “We appreciate the fact you’re willing to hear us out.”

“Not that I have any complaints against pleasantries,” Claude took a deep breath as he looked back into the woods they came from. “But do we _really_ have the time for this?”

“As shocked as I am to say this, Claude’s right,” Edelgard agreed. “The bandits might be slower than we are, but they have numbers that we lack. If they refuse to help us, our enemies won’t stop. We’d have to meet them out in the open and redirect their attention if we want to stop them from pillaging the town.”

“We cannot keep running forever,” Dimitri reminded the two of them. Despite neither of them wanting to admit to being wrong, they were already drained from having run this far. They would likely only be able to hold out another mile if they were lucky. “Although they might outnumber us, if we can gain the advantage by making temporary allies in this village, we might be able to drive them off.”

“What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?” a gruff voice pulled the three house leaders out of their discussion as they turned to face their new company, which Claude could simply assume to be the ‘boss’. He certainly looked the type, towering above even Dimitri, he emitted an aura of intimidation.

His blond hair was messy in the front, yet the back was pulled into a neat braid, a fashion statement that Claude knew his little sister would approve of. The look in his brown eyes was stern, yet he could see a warmth lying beneath the surface. It was almost familiar to Claude, yet he supposed he couldn’t help but suspect that there was more to him sheerly because of the fact he was willing to hear out a group of teenagers in the middle of the night.

“Sorry about my father’s lack of tact,” a feminine voice spoke up from behind the man, and Claude had to bite down on his tongue to keep from reacting. Despite having not heard that voice at all in the past five years, he recognised it immediately.

Holy shit.

Claude could feel Byleth’s stare on him, and it took all of his self-control to not meet her gaze. He instead focused his attention on Dimitri as he tried to keep his composure. Why did he have to run into her now? Just being in proximity to her made him want to admit that he was not Claude, but instead Prince Khalid, and that he has spent the past five years trying to get her out of his mind.

However, if Claude were to tell her the truth _now,_ everything that he accomplished at the academy would be for nothing. He hadn’t built this disguise up from the ground to just throw it away. Though it was true that part of the reason he wanted to come to Fódlan was that he wanted to find her, that wasn’t the sole reason.

He wanted to bring the winds of change to both Fódlan and Almyra alike. Because of his mixed heritage, he already grew up with discrimination in Almyra. Things didn’t improve when he came to Fódlan either. His grandfather, Oswald, was less-than-thrilled about his grandson carrying Almyran blood in his veins and would never fail to remind him of it when they were alone. Claude knew that if there were any chance that his uncle, Godfrey, had a bastard child, then that child would immediately be favoured over Claude. But there was nobody else except Claude and his sister. However, considering that his sister was only three, that left him to be the only viable option.

So, Claude was determined to make the most of his chance. When he ascended to the title of Sovereign Duke, he hoped that he would be able to break the cultural barrier and have each nation more accepting of each other as equals. His dream is to open Fódlan up to the outside world, and hope that others follow in his lead. Considering that his father is still going strong as the King of Almyra, he did not doubt that if he succeeded, then things might just start changing for the better for both lands.

However, if he got found out to be of Almyran heritage himself, he had no doubts in his mind that this would make his task nearly impossible. After all, there was so much bad blood between the two nations at the moment, and he would be accused of trying to use his position to give Almyra more power. This would lead to even more political conflict within the Leicester Alliance. If things went really bad, it could even result in a civil war.

Now, despite Claude’s Almyran heritage and the Fódlan stereotype that all Almyran’s were ‘war-driven savages’ that was far from the truth, at least for Claude. He despised the thought of war and would do everything in his ability to avoid causing one. And if that meant keeping one little secret, then he would do whatever it took.

He had hoped that he would meet Byleth again later down the line when he could be honest with her. However, it would seem as though the gods of fate had other plans. Claude just had to hope that Byleth wasn’t as quick to recognise him as he was to recognise her. He had to thank puberty for being kind to him; Claude no longer looked like he did when he was twelve, that was for sure. But to someone who knew him as well as Byleth did, she would no doubt notice the similarities. He would have to play this smoothly if it were to work.

And yet, a part of him urged him to say screw it and reveal the truth to her the moment that they were alone. Fate brought them back together after all, even if it was at the wrong time. But that part of him was swiftly silenced by logic. It was just that: _the wrong time_. If he slipped up in the slightest, the fallout could be catastrophic.

It was in times like these that Claude sincerely doubted that there were actually gods. The universe was far too cruel for this to be the work of the divine.

“It's true,” Claude was snapped back to reality as Edelgard stepped forwards to back up Dimitri. He recalled the dire situation that they were in, and decided that should be where his attention rested, first and foremost. There was a time and place for an existential crisis, and it was not now. “They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp. Though we’ve succeeded in outrunning them, it’ll only be a matter of time before they catch up to us.”

“We’ve been separated from our companions, and we’re outnumbered,” he pipped up, sparing a glance at Byleth as he spoke, before directing his attention at the man. “Talk about divide-and-conquer. They’re after our lives… not to mention our gold.”

“We have to help them,” Byleth turned to the man, and Claude took advantage of this opportunity to take a good look at her.

She really hadn’t changed much from her time in Almyra. Her blue hair was a bit shorter, and her figure was a bit more voluptuous (not that Claude was trying to stare, but her top did accentuate certain assets that were difficult to ignore). But that was about as far as the differences went. She was still the same Byleth that he knew, though it did pain him slightly that it didn’t appear as though she was wearing the ring— _necklace_ —that he gave her.

“Bandits spotted just outside the village!” a voice hollered from a distance, causing Claude to divert his gaze from Byleth and towards the oncoming mercenary. “There are a lot of them!”

“I’ll go scout ahead,” Byleth says almost immediately, dropping her bag onto the ground as she starts moving towards the treeline, calling back. “I’ll see if there’s a way we can take them by surprise.”

“Byleth! Wait—” Even if she heard the man, she didn’t pause much to his visible annoyance. He let out a deep sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Claude recalled his mom telling him that she did that from time to prevent herself from getting a migraine whenever Claude got up to something stupid, so he assumed that was the case here. “Dammit! She’s going to get herself killed if she keeps this up…”

Turning his gaze, the man looked upon the three youths in front of him. Claude knew better than to assume that he was checking them for injuries, he was most likely checking to see if they were able to fight. They were, after all, students at the Officers Academy. Though their ex-professor was shit, the academy did have quality weapons.

“Even though you brought them here, we’ll help you deal with them. After all, we can’t abandon this village to those bastards; there are a lot of good people here. You kids know how to fight, right?”

Claude’s gaze met with the two highnesses, and they all shared a knowing nod as they reached towards their weapons. Jeralt shook his head in approval as he glanced upon the three of them, his eyes lingering on Claude’s bow.

“Hope you’re good with that thing because I’m going to need you to go and give my daughter some backup.”

This day just kept on getting better, didn’t it?

* * *

Claude had to be careful to avoid being spotted by the bandits as he darted through the trees after Byleth. It wasn’t a difficult task since they hadn’t had a chance to take a short break to catch their breaths, unlike the house leaders had. But with how easy it was for Claude to avoid detection, his faith that they would be able to make it out alive increased dramatically. Plus, they had something that the bandits didn’t: Byleth.

Though Claude hadn’t had the fortune of finding the missing girl, he knew that she couldn’t be that far ahead of him. The string of downed bandits proved that he was on the right trail. He just hoped that the blood splattered across the trees belonged to the bandits only.

Assuming that Byleth hadn’t changed much since he last saw her, he knew that she would do no matter what it took to protect the ones she cared for. However, in doing so, she more-often-than-not forgot to protect herself. And here she was, alone, surrounded by bandits. This thought was enough to cause Claude to pick up his pace.

“Hang on; I’m coming,” Claude muttered to himself. No sooner than the words left his mouth, a scream sounded out from the brush ahead. Claude swiftly readied his bow as he notched an arrow, no longer caring about being stealthy as his protective instinct took over. He hustled over to the noise, his eyes first landing on the mane of blue on the ground and the figure ahead. He didn’t hesitate as he released the arrow into the chest of the bandit, causing him to screech out in pain. Without missing a beat, Claude notched another arrow and fired, effectively killing the bandit this time around.

Sparing a look to see if there were any more bandits, Claude felt a sigh escape from his lips as he stowed his bow onto his back as he knelt to the fallen mercenary. His hand instinctively went to Byleth’s neck to check her pulse as he searched her over for wounds. To his relief, her pulse was steady, and her chest moved with every breath that she took. Though she was covered from head-to-toe in cuts and bruises, the most severe injury that he spotted was the goose-egg sized lump on her forehead.

“That can’t be good,” Claude noted, brushing a lock of Byleth’s hair out of the way to get a better look at her wound. Her eyes began to flutter as he pulled his hand back. Her eyes were foggy at first, and she blinked her eyes a few times as she struggled to regain focus. After a minute, she finally regained enough sense to recognise the man in front of her.

“Khalid…?” she exhaled, and Claude felt his heart drop. He knew that he should use this opportunity to be honest to her. There was nothing that he wanted more _than_ to tell her the truth. But now that he was faced with the decision, he knew that he couldn’t. There was no way that telling her would lead to a happy ending. He knew that he had to put aside his desires in order to achieve his goals. So, he did what he did best. He lied.

“Sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” Claude put on his most dazzling smile as he offered her a hand. “Can’t say that I blame you for the confusion though, that was one nasty hit you took.”

Byleth raised a hand to her injury, wincing as her fingers met the lump on her head as she muttered out a weak “ow.” Taking in a sharp breath, Byleth grabbed hold of the hand that Claude had extended as he hoisted her up to her feet. She stumbled for a moment, leaning against the taller man as she recollected herself.

“I’m sorry,” Byleth told him, taking a few steps to distance herself before stumbling a bit more. This time, Claude reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“I think you’ve got a concussion there,” Claude observed, causing Byleth to give him a dumb look. “I mean, I’m no doctor, but you did call me by some random guy’s name.”

“Sorry,” Byleth once again said as she openly eyed the details of Claude’s face, “you just look a lot like somebody I used to know.”

“Somebody handsome, I hope,” Claude gave Byleth a wink, before releasing his hand from her shoulder. Though he was ready to catch her if she were to stumble, it appeared as though Byleth had finally managed to stabilise herself enough to stand on her own. Though she was giving him a dubious look, he had a feeling that she wasn’t onto him; yet anyways. And he had a plan to keep it that way. “Judging by the look you’re giving me; I’m guessing it there’s a reason as to why it’s just somebody that you used to know.”

Instinctively, Byleth’s hand went to her chest, and Claude saw a flash of silver peak out from behind her white collar. Ah, she kept it after all. For some reason, that knowledge caused Claude’s heart to flutter.

“You’re asking some awfully personal questions about somebody you’ve just met,” Byleth deflected his question, causing Claude to raise his hands innocently.

“Just making sure that seeing my face doesn’t remind you of somebody you’d rather have dead,” he defended, making sure that he let out a nervous laugh afterwards. “I’d rather not have you trying to kill me after this is all over. I’ve got enough people trying to do that right now.”

“I’d never—” Byleth let out a sigh as she shut her eyes. Claude wasn’t sure if he was the reason behind this or if it was her injury. “Look, as much as I would love to explain my love life to you, I’m afraid that we should do that when we’ve got less company.”

Love life, huh? Claude was a bit shocked that she had referred to their relationship as that; however, he knew better than to read into it. She was right; they weren’t exactly in the ideal situation to talk about it. Not to mention the fact that she had no reason to trust him; after all, he _was_ just a stranger. She probably simply referred to it as her ‘love life’ to get him to lose interest in her. To anybody else, it might have worked.

It was a good thing that he wasn’t anybody else.

“Of course,” Claude offered Byleth a mock bow, swiftly standing upright as he withdrew his bow once again, giving her a serious look. “I know that you’re injured, but I need to know if you can still fight.”

“Don’t worry,” Byleth picked her sword off the ground, and Claude struggled to keep a neutral expression as he watched her sway at the sudden movement. “I’ll keep fighting until I draw my last breath.”

She didn’t change at all, did she? Claude had hoped that she would have gained some sense of self-preservation by now, but it seemed as though she wasn’t that fortunate. At least they were together now, and he could do what he could to help her. He just hoped that it would be enough.

Despite her injury, Byleth proved herself to be more competent when it came to fighting than her companion. By the time he had managed to notch his arrow, she was already landing the killing blow. Though she was seeing stars, she powered through it in order to protect the brunet boy and reunite with his friends and her father.

Byleth hadn’t realised how far away that she had gotten from the action until she discovered most of the bandits had already been defeated by the time that they joined up with their allies.

“Claude!” the blond stranger called out upon seeing the archer and Byleth return to the midst of the action. She didn’t miss the look of relief she saw on her father’s face when he spotted the two of them from his peripheral as he swung his sword down on a nearby enemy, the blood splattering onto his face as he threw a glance towards the duo.

“Took you long enough!” he grunted as he slashed at another enemy.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” Byleth returned, pulling out her dagger and throwing it towards a bandit that was running towards Claude, causing the later to let out a yelp as a body fell onto him.

“A little heads up next time?!”

“My bad,” Byleth wanted to roll her eyes at Claude’s complaint but decided to focus her attention on the remaining enemies. Her father had seemed to take out a large chunk of them (with the help of the others, she supposed) and had now moved onto the leader of the bandits, an ugly man with a face that reminded her a bit of a brick. However, the most shocking part about this is the fact that the bandit leader seemed to recognise her father almost instantaneously.

“Aren't you Jeralt the Blade Breaker? What's a renowned mercenary like you doing here?”

“I'm the one who should be complaining,” Jeralt rebuked, swinging his sword at the man, who stopped the blow with his axe. “I'm caught up in the mess you started!”

“No one’s forcing you to get involved!” the bandit argued, taking a swing at Jeralt, who effortlessly blocked him.

“Like I’d just be able to sit here idly as you murder anyone who gets in your way!”

“You pretend like morals have done you any good. They just make you weak!” the bandit leader once again blocks Jeralt’s attack, pushing his sword to the side as he pulled back his arm and launched his weapon. However, the weapon flew past Jeralt, and it made it clear that his real target was actually behind him. “Die!”

The blonde girl turned just as Byleth leapt in front of her, sword raised high as she blocked the blow. “Not today!”

“Shit,” Jeralt glanced back at the two girls to make sure that they were alright, before turning back to the bandit leader who was busily hightailing it out of there. “It was a distraction?”

Jeralt was just about to chase after the bandits before he heard a compilation of voices nearing in the distance. All of the mercenaries froze as they reached towards their weapons as they turned towards the noise, preparing to fight the bandit’s backup. However, they were instead met with a group of knights who were chasing after the bandits, who frantically tried to flee.

“The Knights of Seiros?” Byleth heard Jeralt mutter, and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She was quite familiar with the concept of knights, but what was Seiros? A knight rode in the middle of the rest, barking orders at those he had in his disposal. Byleth heard her father grumble as he spotted the knight. “Ugh... Why him?”

“You know this guy?” Byleth enquired, looking the man up and down. He had slicked-back brown hair and a well-kept suit of armour. He looked to be a proper knight at first glance, which confused her all the more. From her knowledge, her father liked to steer clear of knights whenever he could.

“I used too,” Jeralt informed her, crossing his arms as the stared warily at the man who was approaching them. “I never thought I’d see him again, to be honest.”

Byleth watched as Alisha moved towards the knight to confront him before he reached Jeralt; however, the man paid her no mind as he continued towards her father.

“Captain Jeralt?! It is you!” the knight looked like Jeralt with a look of bewilderment. “Goodness, it’s been ages. Don’t you recognise me? It’s Alois! Your old right-hand man! Well, that’s how I always thought of myself anyway. It must have been 20 years ago that you went missing without a trace! I always knew you were still alive!”

Byleth winced as the man’s loud voice penetrated her ears, causing her head to throb. She excused herself from the conversation as she put enough distance between herself and the knight that was as humanly possible without losing sight of her father. Though her father didn’t seem to be distressed while he spoke to the knight, he radiated an aura of annoyance. Truthfully, Byleth didn’t want to get caught up in whatever business that the two had between them right now. After all, she had one hell of a headache. She wouldn’t be surprised if she _did_ have a concussion.

“Thank you for your assistance, we’re in debt to both you and your father,” a calmer, quieter voice interrupted Byleth’s train of thought as she turned towards the blond who spoke to her. Claude and the blonde girl stood beside him, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long they’ve been standing there before she noticed them.

“You don’t need to thank us,” Byleth told him. “It’s just what we do. We help people who need it.”

“Dimitri has a point. It’s quite unique for a mercenary, most of you just do what you do for the money, I honestly wasn’t expecting you to lend us your aid.” It was the girl who spoke up this time as she eyed Byleth up and down curiously. “It’s nice to see that there are still people out there who defy expectations and act in favour of helping the greater good.”

“I think you’re exaggerating a bit there…”

“Are you kidding?!” Claude exclaimed. “It’s because of you that we’re not dead right now! Those bandits have been chasing us for miles. We were doing some training exercises when they attacked. I definitely got the worst of it.”

“That’s because you ran off,” the girl reprimanded, causing Byleth to raise an eyebrow at Claude.

“That’s true, but it was just because I was the first to make a strategic retreat. Except then you two followed me and ruined everything. Anyway, instead of chatting _someone’s_ ear off,” Claude gave a pointed look toward Byleth, “shouldn’t we get our new friend looked at? That’s a pretty nasty bump she’s got on her head.”

“I’m fine,” Byleth argued, and Dimitri stepped forwards and inspected her head injury, nodding in agreement to Claude’s assessment.

“I agree with Claude,” he said, causing the girl to let out a small laugh.

“That’s a first.”

“You’re staying somewhere in the village, right? We can get you looked at there.”

Byleth argued against them for a few minutes longer before finally giving in and leading them back to the inn. They were greeted by Gertrud, who was sitting at a table in the lobby with the town doctor playing chess. Byleth was in too much pain to question what the medic was doing there during the early hours of the morning, so she just accepted it. After taking a look at Byleth’s injury, the doctor gave the girl a potion and told her to be sure to get some rest before returning to their chess game.

Looking down at the potion, Byleth’s expression twisted into one of disgust as she swished it around the glass before downing it one gulp. She gagged slightly from the taste, causing her three new companions to laugh at her misery.

“Is it really that bad?” Claude asked, and Byleth just nodded grimly as she reached into her bag and searched through it for something to take away the taste. After pulling out a small loaf of bread, she broke off a piece and shoved it into her mouth. She then passed the loaf to Claude, who took a piece before handing it to the other two. They all took a seat at one of the benches as they snacked on the bread.

“Who are you guys anyway?” Byleth asked, taking another bite from her chunk of bread as she glanced between the group.

“Oh! We haven’t had an opportunity to introduce ourselves, have we? My apologies,” the young man stood up from the bench and gave Byleth a bow before sitting back down. “My name is Dimitry Blaiddyd, the Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Though I hope you don’t treat me differently because of it. You can just call me Dimitri.”

“Just Dimitri?” Byleth questioned. Something about that name sounded vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t quite place it.

“Trust us, it’s much easier just to refer to him as Dimitri rather than Prince Dimitri or his Highness,” Claude told her as he playfully elbowed Dimitri. “Unless you want to deal with him constantly correcting you. I’m Claude by the way, heir of House Reigan from the Leicester Alliance. I might be less of a big deal than these two but trust me: I’m far more interesting.”

“Is he always like this?” Byleth asked the other two, who just nodded their heads solemnly.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Modesty was never his strong suit.”

“Ouch, I’m sitting _right here,_ ” Claude dramatically gestured down towards himself, an action which the three ignored as they continued their introductions.

“I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, student of the Officers Academy and heir of the Adrestian Empire,” she gave Byleth a warm smile, “and you are?”

“Byleth Eisner,” she shrugged, eyes flickering between the three nobles in front of her, all of which were looking at her expectantly. “I’m heir to nothing, but I’d like to think that I’m pretty good with a sword.”

“You really are modest, aren’t you?” Edelgard’s stare hadn’t left Byleth since they had sat down. “If you were anybody else, I think that you were simply being humble by trying to downplay your own abilities, and yet you truly don’t seem to think that you’re to the level that you are. Might I remind you that you did save my life; I think that counts as being more than a little good with a sword.”

“Thank you,” Byleth felt her cheeks go pink as a small smile crept onto her face at the woman’s sincerity. Sparing a glance down to her bread, she continued to question them. “Are you all students at this Officers Academy or whatever?”

“That’s right!” Claude chirped. “We’re all house leaders back at the academy! I’m with the Golden Deer, which hold the students from the Leicester Alliance. Edelgard’s in charge of the Black Eagles, where those from the Adrestian Empire are put. And Dimitri’s the head of the Blue Lions of Faerghus.”

Byleth’s eyes flickered between the three uniforms. She supposed that they all looked similar enough to be school uniforms, but each of the house leaders had a different colour highlighting their own. “Why is it the Black Eagle rather than the Red Eagle?”

The two other house leaders shared a look as though they were contemplating Byleth’s point before Edelgard finally spoke up. “The Black Eagle has its name due to the twin-headed eagle of the Adrestian Empire's coat of arms, as well as the black armour worn by our soldiers. Also, if you look at the house flag, it quite literally has a black eagle on it.”

“Huh, who would have thought,” Claude noted, locking his hands together behind his neck as he stretched backwards, obviously not caring about the history of the house’s name.

“You know that you could at least pretend to care, right?” Edelgard deadpanned.

“Nah, it’s more fun to see you all worked up.”

“It looks as though you all take your house pride very seriously,” Byleth remarked.

“Indeed, each house is a prime representative of that part of Fódlan. It’s only natural to have some sort of pride over your home, don’t you think?” Dimitri spoke to Byleth, ignoring the silent glares that Edelgard and Claude were throwing the others way. “If you don’t mind me asking, where does your allegiance lay?”

Dimitri’s last question seemed to be what it took to distract his two companions from one another as they turned their attentions towards Byleth, both seeming genuinely interested in her response.

“Keep in mind, there’s only one right answer,” Claude winked towards Byleth.

“I don’t…” Byleth didn’t feel as though she could give them an answer that would satisfy any of them. Because she had grown up travelling, she had spent about the same amount of time in each of the lands. Did she really have to pick one? “My loyalties lie to my father rather to any particular region.”

Though she noticed them slightly deflate at her answer, none of the house leaders seemed particularly bothered by her stance of neutrality.

“Since we’re mercenaries, I grew up travelling,” Byleth explained, “I have fond memories from all around Fódlan. I don’t think I’d be able to choose one over the others. We’ve been moving around like this since I was a baby, I’ve honestly got no idea where we originally came from.”

“Interesting,” Edelgard commented.

“I can’t even imagine what it must have been like growing up like that,” Dimitri added, giving Byleth a look that she couldn’t quite place. Pity perhaps?

“Enough about me,” Byleth said, quickly feeling uncomfortable over how much she’d shared with the three strangers in such a short amount of time. “What else can you tell me about the Officers Academy? I’ve never heard about it before.”

“Wait, you’re kidding?” Claude looked at Byleth’s as though he was waiting for the punchline to a joke, but his face quickly fell when he realised that she was serious. “Okay, she’s not kidding. You’ve seriously travelled all over Fódlan and have never heard of the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery?”

“Garreg Mach Monastery?” Byleth had vague recollections of seeing something that sounded similar on the map; however, apart from its name, she knew nothing about it. The three youths shared a glance with one another before turning back to Byleth, about to speak. However, they were interrupted by the inn door opening and Alisha stepping inside with a serious look on her face.

“Grab your things, kid, because we’re going to Garreg Mach.”

The blue-haired girl felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked over to see Dimitri standing beside her looking down. “Showing you what the monastery is will be a lot easier than explaining it.”

Byleth was too focused with what was going on, that she didn’t even notice that Claude had turned from Alisha the moment that she walked in.


	11. The Golden Deer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re right,” Sylvain sighed, giving Byleth a smirk. “But just know that until you flat out reject me, I won’t surrender in trying to woo you.”
> 
> “That’s what you were trying to do?” Byleth spared a glance at Sylvain, a playful smirk lingering on her lips. Now she could understand why Dorothea did what she did when Byleth walked up to them. Sylvain might be a flirt, but he certainly was fun to joke around with. Byleth shifted her eyes back at the classrooms, trying to determine which one belonged to the Golden Deer. “I just thought you just had something in your eye.”
> 
> “Ouch, when did you become so mean?” Sylvain’s face twisted up in pain as he grabbed his chest, feigning injury. “Your words, they wound me. How shall I ever recover?”
> 
> “I’m sure Manuela can fix that,” Byleth stated, recalling Manuela as the name of the woman who treated her.
> 
> “Alas, I’ve got good old Professor Hanneman,” Sylvain frowned as he dropped his act, smoothing out his shirt as he looked towards Byleth. His gaze was gentle as his thoughts were a thousand miles away, recalling their first and only meeting all those years ago. “I might just have to change houses.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Sorry for the delay, moving was a bitch and so was the WiFi company! After calling every day for a week straight, they finally sent an engineer to come and fix our box. So we officially have WiFi, yay!!!
> 
> Anyway, this is only half of the chapter that I had MEANT to post, however, I ended up having more content for this than I had anticipated, so I figured I wouldn't keep you waiting any longer than necessary! Just know that we'll finish the Great Tree Moon next chapter! Then things will keep steadily progressing from there! I'm going to try to write as much as I can before university starts back up! Then again, it's not like that's ever stopped me in the past!
> 
> Stay safe, and don't forget to kudos and review! I love hearing feedback from all of you! Even something as simple as "Great story!" warms my heart. You're all amazing <3 Thank you for reading!

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_xi. the golden deer_

* * *

_21 st Day of the Great Tree Moon_

_Imperial Year 1180_

_Morning_

* * *

_Captain's Quarters, Second Floor_

_Garreg Mach Monastery_

* * *

“Thanks again for letting me use your office.”

“Not a problem, I doubt I’ll be here that often anyway. Besides, wasn’t it _your_ office once-upon-a-time?”

“That was a long time ago…” Jeralt let out a deep sigh as he trailed his fingers along the spines of the books that inhabited the shelves, pulling one at random and flipping it open as he scanned the pages. “Heh, it’s even got the same books in here.”

“I doubt they’d be able to put most of them in of the library with the others,” Alisha said as she plopped down on the of the couches, throwing her legs up as she lounged back to make herself comfortable in her new office. “Captain of the Knights of Seiros. Never thought I’d actually get the title of knight, let alone captain. You sure you don’t want the position.”

“I vouched on your behalf for a reason,” Jeralt assured her. He closed the book and slid it back into the bookshelf, taking another glance around the room. It was just how he’d remembered it, whether for better or for worse.

“Ah yes, because being a professor sounds _far_ more interesting than being a knight,” Alisha sardonically laughed, closing her eyes as she nestled further into the sofa. “You’re going soft, old man.”

“Maybe…”

A knock on the door attracted the attention from the two former mercenaries as they watched the door swing open, revealing a puzzled looking Byleth outside. Alisha, who had jumped to her feet in an attempt to look professional, ended up scoffing at her miscalculation as she flopped back onto the couch. Jeralt gave Byleth a gentle smile as he gestured for her to enter.

“I checked your room first, but you weren’t there,” Byleth said, taking a glance around the room, her gaze lingering at the bookshelf momentarily before continuing her inspection. “But I saw that you finished unpacking your things.”

“It’s not as though there was much to unpack,” Jeralt reminded her.

“So, you were serious about us staying here…” Byleth turned to face Jeralt, though she had attempted to maintain a neutral facial expression, the confusion in her eyes gave away her true emotions. “Why?”

“Why?” Jeralt had to pause to think about the reason. There were many reasons as to why he agreed to stay, several of which involved him thinking about what would be best for Byleth. The others involved Rhea and the Church of Seiros. “There comes a time in everybody’s life where they’re presented with a choice. Depending on how they answer will also determine how their life is going to play out. Whenever we’ve been given a choice, we’ve ignored it and continued down the path we were already on. I thought it was time for a change.”

Byleth nodded her head slowly, clearly not entirely buying the excuse that her father was trying to sell her. Nonetheless, she turned towards the doorway to leave, but not before sparing her father one last look, a mischievous smile on her face. “Don’t forget that your first class starts in an hour, _Professor._ ”

Without waiting for a reply, Byleth left the Captain’s Quarters, causing Alisha to burst out laughing and Jeralt to stare at the spot Byleth had just been standing perplexed.

“I forgot about that…” Jeralt stated to himself, causing Alisha to laugh even harder.

“You’ve only been here a day, and they’re already expecting you to teach,” Alisha choked out after her laughter had begun to die down, “that’s rough… really.”

“I’ll manage,” Jeralt stated, internally wondering if he had made the right choice. What sparked him to agree to become a professor out of all things?

Oh, that’s right: Byleth.

* * *

_Yesterday_

* * *

_Audience Chamber, Second Floor_

_Garreg Mach Monastery_

* * *

_“It has been such a long time, Jeralt,” Rhea greeted. Though her voice was silky and gentle, Jeralt could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. “I wonder… was it the will of the goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?”_

_“Forgive my silence all these years,” Jeralt apologised. He offered a bow to Rhea, though his eyes did not leave hers for an instant. “Much has happened since we last spoke.”_

_“I’ve heard. Alois has informed me that the miracle of fatherhood has blessed you. Though, your daughter is not here. Is everything alright?”_

_“Yes, she is fine. She had received a minor head injury while protecting your students from a bandit attack, so they took her to the infirmary when we arrived here to get her looked over.”_

_“I see,” Jeralt didn’t miss the look of disappointment that crossed Rhea’s face. “My condolences. I do wish that I might be able to give her a proper thanks for assisting in saving those students of the Officers Academy. Of course, her health is of our utmost priority right now. You need not fret; she is in good hands whilst she’s with Manuela.”_

_“Are you certain?”_

_“Yes, I take great pride in my staff.”_

_“Really?” Jeralt struggled to not raise his voice in anger at Rhea’s blatant lie. “Because from the sounds of it, the professor that was supposed to be with those students ran away at the first sign of conflict.”_

_“That was quite unfortunate,” Rhea frowned. “Though you have my uttermost gratitude for the assistance that you and your daughter have provided us.”_

_“It wasn’t just us,” Jeralt stated, “I have my own group of skilled mercenaries who helped handle the situation.”_

_Jeralt wasn’t a prideful man. Pride can lead to arrogance, and arrogance can lead to novice mistakes. However, one thing that Jeralt had an immense amount of pride for (excluding Byleth) was his mercenary band. Alisha had fought by his side for years now, her skill with a bow was rival to none. Jeralt would never forget the time she launched a lance from a makeshift crossbow and hit the target dead-on. She was not one to be trifled with, and neither were the rest of his group._

_“That has also been brought to my attention, fear not,” Rhea looked Jeralt up and down, silently assessing him before she once again spoke. “It would appear as though you’ve succeeded in keeping yourself intact during your absence, I’ve yet to spot any new injuries. It would appear that your mercenaries are quite capable.”_

_“Capable is an understatement, they’re some of the best fighters that I’ve had the pleasure of working beside,” Jeralt felt a surge of pride pass through him as he spoke of his men. Though members would typically only stay for a few years, during their time with him, they always gave it their all. Each time one of them left, he was never concerned—they have proven time-and-time again that they can handle themselves in sticky situations._

_“That is a very bold claim considering that you had previously fought alongside the Knights of Seiros,” Rhea pointed out, giving him a look that he couldn’t decipher. Jeralt, however, didn’t back down to her gaze, and instead decided to rival it with one of his own._

_“I am aware,” he said, “and I stand by what I said, Lady Rhea.”_

_“Hmm…” Rhea pursed her lips for a moment as she pondered what to say next. The tension between the two of them grew so thick that it could be cut with a butter knife before Rhea finally spoke again. “You already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?”_

_“You want me to re-join the Knights of Seiros, don’t you?” Jeralt sighed. “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to decline. My duty is to my daughter, I can’t go off galivanting like I did in the old days.”_

_“I understand, though I wish I could say that this took me by surprise,” Rhea gave Jeralt a gentle smile. “You’ve changed quite a bit from when we last saw one another.”_

_“Loss does that to a person. I know that Byleth’s mother would never forgive me if I allowed anything to happen to our daughter.”_

_“No parent wants harm to befall upon their child, and yet you also subject your child to the unruly life of a mercenary. Though I am not judging you or the decisions that you make, please ask yourself: would Byleth’s mother want this?”_

_Jeralt had to bite his tongue to prevent shouting at the Archbishop. He wanted to scream that this was all her fault to begin with. But that would reveal that Byleth’s mother was actually Sitri, and that was the last thing that he had wanted to admit. Though a part of him wanted to take Byleth as far away from Rhea as possible, the logical part of him knew that there was some truth in her words._

_If Sitri were still alive, would she appreciate how much danger he regularly put their daughter in? Though he is well aware that his daughter is a capable fighter, lately she had been pushing herself too hard. If he hadn’t sent that archer boy after Byleth during the bandit attack, who knows what might have happened to her._

_“I just want what’s best for my daughter,” Jeralt finally said, scratching his beard as he spoke. “She’s been through a lot more than someone her age should have. She won’t admit it, but it’s taken a toll on her. But after we saved those kids… when she actually got to talk to them afterwards. She looked just like a regular girl, rather than a mercenary. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes…”_

_“I see, so you wish for your daughter to continue to have an opportunity to interact with her fellow youths?” Rhea closed her eyes as the gears turned in her head. “I believe I might have come up with a solution.”_

_“Which is?”_

_“Jeralt, you’re an experienced combatant,” Rhea offered Jeralt a half-smile, opening her eyes just enough to expose her mint-green irises. “How would you feel about taking on the role of professor?”_

_“What?” Jeralt was taken aback by Rhea’s offer. He wasn’t expecting her to have let him off the hook entirely from being a part of the Knights of Seiros—but a professor?! Though he had trained mercenaries, the only child he had ever taught was his daughter. But that duty swiftly fell to Ronan as soon as he had joined the group. “I’m not certain that’s the best idea—”_

_“On the contrary, I believe it is the best course of action. You weren’t wrong in your accusations about our previous professor, but you are not the type of person who would sacrifice others so you might prosper. Not to mention you’ve managed to raise a child to adulthood while working as a mercenary. I believe if anybody can do it, it would be you. There must be a reason the Goddess brought you back here, after all…”_

_“There’s no getting around this, is there?” Jeralt sighed. “All right, I’ll become your new professor. But I have some conditions that must be met first.”_

_“Very well, I’ll do my best to meet your demands…”_

* * *

_Present Day, Morning_

* * *

_Courtyard_

_Garreg Mach Monastery_

* * *

Byleth took a deep breath once she entered the courtyard, letting the cold spring air fill her lungs. She couldn’t help but glance at the stone building she had just exited, frowning softly. Though she wasn’t particularly upset by her father’s decision to stay, it did take her by surprise. Her father was never one for domestics, which was why they never stayed in one place for too long. For him to suddenly take a teaching position—where he would be forced to work for a year minimum—was incredibly out of character for him.

Or was it?

Byleth had no idea what her father’s past entailed. Even if she asked, he would never give her a direct answer. However, based on what she had gathered in the day since they’d arrived, her father had spent a considerable amount of time here before she had been born. But if that’s the case, then why did he leave? And if he hated it here that much, then why agree to come back?

There were far too many questions that consumed Byleth’s thoughts, that she had to fight the urge to shake her head to rid herself of them. Though she wanted answers, she knew that she was supposed to take it relatively easy for the next few days. Her main priority at the moment should be becoming acquainted with the layout of the school. Because apparently, this was going to be where she spent the next year.

“Just what I’ve always wanted…” Byleth muttered sarcastically. Though it was true that in the past, she desired to meet more individuals her age, the thought of going to school with them hadn’t crossed her mind. In fact, she never remotely considered the possibility of attending one.

Yet here she stood, an unwitting student of the Officer’s Academy. Honestly, she should consider herself lucky that the academy specialised in combat; if she had been forced to attend a standard school to become educated on history and mathematics alone, she would not have been near as willing to attend. Though she would have doubted the school’s credibility if her father had been hired to teach there.

Taking a look around the courtyard, Byleth was surprised about just how many students attended the academy. There were a group of boys sparing in the middle of the courtyard with wooden weapons, while a few girls sat off to the side watching them. One of the boys sparing had managed to disarm his opponent, causing the wooden lance to go flying at one of the girls who had caught it one-handed. Saying a quick “talk to you later” to her friends, she sprung to her feet and joined in the fight, jabbing hard and fast at her adversaries. Byleth raised her eyebrows in awe at the girl’s finesse with a lance as she watched her go head-to-head with the boys without missing a beat.

Shifting her gaze, Byleth noticed a small group of people standing nearby a bulletin board, a few of them looking ecstatic while some of them looked as though they were about to lose their breakfast. Curiosity got the best of Byleth as she felt her feet move beneath her towards the crowd. Thankfully, in the time that it took her to make her way across the courtyard, the bystanders had mostly dispersed, with the exception of an annoyed-looking young man with black hair pulled back into a messy bun and a reasonably tall man with curly red locks who was quite confidently chatting up a pretty girl with long brown hair, the latter seemed more amused by the exchange than anything.

“Come on, Dorothea, don’t be like that,” the flirtatious man winked. “You’re the monastery’s most beautiful flower.”

“I’ve also got the sharpest thorns,” though the words passed through her lips like silk, the malice in her eyes gave her a dangerous look. “Although I do appreciate a good compliment, it means nothing coming from you. After all, how many times have you used that pickup line today?”

“Ah, do you really think so little of me? My words are tailored to the individual, and one as lovely as yourself deserves nothing but the best, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, I most certainly do,” she traced her finger up his arm to his bicep before wrapping her entire hand on his arm, as though she were feeling his muscle, before giving him a harsh shove, catching him off guard causing him to stumble into the wall behind him. “Unfortunately, you’re not the best, Sylvain. Not even close.”

“Woah,” Sylvain held up his hands innocently as he regained his footing. “I just want to know what it is that I’ve done to give you such a low impression of me?”

“You mean one thing that stands above all the others?” Dorothea teased, tapping her chin as though she were in deep thought. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure that it would be worth explaining. I highly doubt it would sink through that thick skull of yours.”

At her comment, the second man who has been silent this entire exchange released a soft chuckle, causing Sylvain to look towards him with a look of betrayal. “Not you too, Felix.”

“Honestly, I’d much rather take my options elsewhere,” Dorothea said, turning away from the two young men towards Byleth, who she had just noticed approach the bulletin board. “Like there, for example.”

“Huh?” Byleth looked at the brunette in confusion, obviously having not been expecting to be dragged into their conversation. After all, she had just wanted to see what was posted on the board. Dorothea took one graceful step after another towards Byleth, eventually standing uncomfortably close to her. Dorothea raised her hand and put a finger underneath Byleth’s jaw, raising her chin so that Byleth’s face was looking directly at Dorothea’s.

“ **What the hell does she think she’s doing! Remove her hand at once! You have already been spoken for!** ” Sothis protested from within Byleth’s head, though Byleth found herself unable to move, entranced in Dorothea’s gaze. A playful smile grew on the brunette’s face as she moved her other hand from her side to Byleth’s face, cupping it softly as she slowly brushed the bangs out of her face, causing Byleth to fight back a blush from the close contact.

“W-What are you doing?!” Byleth finally managed to squeak.

“Huh?” Dorothea asked innocently as if she didn’t realise what she was doing. It didn’t take long before she released a soft giggle, taking a step away from Byleth and offering her a playful wink. “I’m sorry you were just too cute! I couldn’t resist taking a closer look. Hope you didn’t mind."

Byleth wasn’t sure if it was the woman’s beauty, her singsong voice, or the boldness of her actions, but she found herself unable to give any response besides a nod. Pleased with herself, Dorothea turned back to Sylvain and Felix, who were just standing there perplexed by what they just witnessed.

“And that, boys, is how you do it,” she told them, crossing her arms as she looked to Sylvain with a cocky smirk. “This is why I’m the best of the best. Now if you excuse me, gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere.”

As she turned to leave, she gave Byleth another wink. “My name’s Dorothea, by the way.”

“I-I’m Byleth,” she had finally managed to compose herself enough to utter her name. But she completely missed how something as simple as her name could cause one of the boys to direct his full attention towards her in surprise as he studied her features.

“Well, Byleth, I’m sure that this meeting will be the first of many. But I really must be off, I’ll see you around.” And with that, Dorothea strutted off towards her house leader, Edelgard. Byleth, who was still in a bit of a daze about what had just happened, turned back towards the board to see Felix looking at her intently.

“Uh, yes?” Byleth found herself raising her hand back up to her bangs to readjust them in the position that they were in before Dorothea messed them up. Felix, however, crossed his arm and offered Byleth a half-smile.

“Well I’ll be damned, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Wait—you know her?!” Sylvain’s eyebrows shot up as he glanced between Byleth and Felix in confusion before his mouth eventually formed an ‘o’ shape as he turned towards Felix, a stupidly large grin growing on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at his friend. “Is it the same way the Dorothea was trying to know her? Felix you _dog_ , you thought you could hide it from me.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Felix told him, frowning. “We _both_ know you, you idiot.”

“You do?” now it was Byleth’s turn to be confused as she looked between the two men, trying to put their faces to a particular memory. She furrowed her eyebrows as she glanced between them, no matter how hard Byleth thought, she couldn’t seem to recall who they were.

“ **I haven’t the slightest idea who they are either** ,” Sothis’s informed Byleth.

“Seriously, neither of you remember?!” Felix sighed, leaning back against the wall as he glanced between the red-head and the bluenette. “After the war with Sreng, there was a celebration at the capital. You and Ingrid noticed that Blue was on her own, so Ingrid decided to invite her to dance with us.”

Byleth could feel the memories coming back to her as she glanced between Sylvain and Felix in shock. It was one of her most cherished memories, and yet she had forgotten the fine details so many years ago. But now, the more she looked between the two, the more familiar that they got to her. She could remember how she had danced the night away with Sylvain, and the very same night he had stolen her first kiss. Though, judging by what she had just witnessed between him and Dorothea, perhaps she should be a bit ashamed of that fact. However, she couldn’t find it in her to be anything but excited to be reunited with people she had known from her childhood.

“Oh, goddess. You’re right!” Sylvain exclaimed, his eyes going wide as he looked Byleth up and down in shock. It was if he didn’t believe she was the girl from all those years ago. Though Byleth couldn’t really blame him, after all, she was just as surprised. “I can’t believe it… I honestly thought you were dead.”

“Wow, thanks…” Byleth said sarcastically, causing Felix to snicker.

“What?! Can you really blame me?” Sylvan held his hands up innocently. “Last time we saw each other, we were _literally_ kids. We were barely old enough to be able to start training, let alone with actual weapons! Maybe I’m a bit pessimistic, but honestly, I prefer to think of myself as a realist.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Byleth nodded her head. Honestly, she should have been dead ten times over by now. If it weren’t for Sothis, she probably would be. She raised her arms to gesture to herself. “Well, as you can see; I’m very much alive.”

“Yeah, you are,” Sylvain winked at Byleth, resulting in Felix elbowing him in the ribs. “Ouch, seriously?! I didn’t even say anything bad that time!”

“Hmph,” Felix scoffed, “your tone of voice said otherwise.”

Byleth glanced between the two of them curiously. The dynamic between the two was rather interesting. An onlooker might mistake Felix’s reaction as an attempt to defend her honour. But if that were the case, then why didn’t he do anything when Dorothea had gotten so close. Though Byleth didn’t have any complaint with her action, she also didn’t have any complaint with Sylvain’s comment. After witnessing his and Dorothea’s exchange, his response was likely more out of reflex than anything else. And Dorothea’s interaction with her was her way to toy with Sylvain, the equivalent of rubbing salt in the wound after she rejected him. Or at least, that’s what Byleth convinced herself.

“I’ll admit it’s a surprise to see you both. I didn’t realise that this… school?” Byleth wasn’t sure what to refer to it as, but it’s the closest thing she’s ever had to formal education, “was as renown as it was. The fact I’m here is a complete accident…”

“Wait…” Sylvain’s eyes wandered down to the clothing that adorned Byleth. Though her uniform was an older style (back when the Officer’s Academy used silver accents instead of gold), it was undeniable that it belonged to the academy. “Holy shit! You’re the one who saved Dimitri and the others from bandits, aren’t you?!”

“I didn’t really do anything…” Byleth turned away from the two, her cheeks flushing pink at his comment. People were giving her more credit than she deserved, in her opinion. “It was mostly my dad, I just scouted ahead to try to help the others from getting overwhelmed.”

She really didn’t want to admit that she had gotten knocked out by one of the bandits during the alteration, but she wouldn’t be surprised if the word were to get out sooner rather than later. After all, teenagers loved to gossip, right? Luckily, the academy physician had treated her injury with magic, causing the bump to go away entirely, leaving only a small bruise on her forehead, which she was easily able to hide with her bangs. Meaning that if she so desired, she could downplay her injury.

“I heard differently,” Felix spoke up, causing Byleth to try to swallow down the lump in her throat. Here it was… “The head of the Golden Deer, Claude, kept going on about how he saw you take down at least a dozen bandits single handily. If that’s true, then you and I are going to have to cross swords at some point. I’d like to witness your skill for myself.”

“Oh, uh—sure?” Byleth blinked as she looked at Felix with confusion. His face was stoic as he glanced her up and down. It was different than when Sylvain did it, however. It felt as though Felix was sizing her up. He was trying to see if she was actually worth fighting, or if Claude had been exaggerating. The fact that the latter had seemingly been singing her praises also came as quite the shock. “I hadn’t realised anybody would be talking about me.”

Or at least, she hadn’t realised anybody would be talking about her in such a positive way. Perhaps she had misinterpreted how teenagers worked?

“Of course they are!” Sylvain exclaimed. “You helped save the three future leaders of Fódlan, and as thanks, Lady Rhea is letting you attend the Officer’s Academy for free while your old man gets hired on as a professor! Now _that_ doesn’t happen every day.”

Byleth couldn’t help but shrink into herself slightly upon learning she was indeed the source of, what she had to guess, most of the gossip in the school at the moment. This meant that all eyes would be on her to see if she lived up to her expectation. Honestly, Byleth was half tempted to push the boundaries on how far back she could rewind time to try to avoid doing anything to capture the other students’ attention.

“ **Don’t you even dare think about it,** ” Sothis warned, her voice stern. “ **In addition to that being over 24 hours ago, you have also sustained a substantial head injury. I will not allow you to do anything foolish until you fully recover!** ”

Byleth had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Though she knew that Sothis was right, she found it weird to be patronised by a girl who appeared so much younger than herself. Byleth hadn’t realised it when she was younger, but while she continued to age and grow, Sothis stayed the same. And yet the green-haired girl remained quite adamant about the fact that she was alive.

“You two are in the Faerghus house, right?” Byleth tried to recall the names of the three houses, but the only one that she could recall was the Golden Deer. Though, that was simply the house that Byleth and her father had been assigned to.

“The Blue Lions,” Felix nodded, “and you’re a member of the Golden Deer.”

“That’s right.”

“I look forwards to sparring against you during the mock battle at the end of the month then,” Felix said, before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking off without a goodbye. Sylvain sighed as he looked at Felix’s retreating figure, running a hand through his red hair.

“Hope you weren’t planning on speaking with him anymore,” Sylvain told Byleth, sparing her a glance. “He’s not exactly… _sociable_. I’m surprised he recognised you if I’m being honest. Felix tends to care more about swords than women. Actually, scratch that. He cares more about swords than most things.”

“That’s healthy,” Byleth deadpanned, causing Sylvain to look at her in surprise before bursting out laughing.

“For a minute I couldn’t tell if you actually agreed with him on that,” Sylvain told her, his voice laced with laughter before he cleared his throat in an attempt to compose himself. “I mean, everyone has their vice. His just so happens to be swordsmanship.”

“So, in other words,” Byleth flashed Sylvain a mischievous smirk, “I don’t have to go easy on him?”

“Oh, please don’t! I would love to see somebody able to knock Felix down a peg.”

“Well in that case, maybe I’ll forgo fighting him to go after you instead,” Byleth wasn’t too shocked to learn that they would have a mock battle so early in the year. It allowed the professors to gauge their student’s combative abilities so they would learn what their strengths and weaknesses were. Her father frequently would spar with new members of the mercenary band to see what they were skilled with. He always trained those who focused on melee combat while Alisha helped those others who preferred long-range. Because there has never been more than one mage in the mercenary group at a time, Ronan wasn’t responsible for training anybody except for Byleth. That exact reason was why he was responsible for most of her studies.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Sylvain winked, causing Byleth to roll her eyes. “Because even if there’s a sword in your hand, I honestly wouldn’t mind having you on top of me.”

“Enough joking around,” Byleth said, turning away from Sylvain to finally see what was printed on the board. Surely enough, it was information about the mock battles that were supposed to take place at the end of the month. That would explain how so many students knew about it already. Glad to finally have her question answered, Byleth turned back towards the courtyard. She saw various students begin to make their way into their respective classrooms. “We should probably get to class.”

“You’re right,” Sylvain sighed, giving Byleth a smirk. “But just know that until you flat out reject me, I won’t surrender in trying to woo you.”

“That’s what you were trying to do?” Byleth spared a glance at Sylvain, a playful smirk lingering on her lips. Now she could understand why Dorothea did what she did when Byleth walked up to them. Sylvain might be a flirt, but he certainly was fun to joke around with. Byleth shifted her eyes back at the classrooms, trying to determine which one belonged to the Golden Deer. “I just thought you just had something in your eye.”

“Ouch, when did you become so mean?” Sylvain’s face twisted up in pain as he grabbed his chest, feigning injury. “Your words, they wound me. How shall I ever recover?”

“I’m sure Manuela can fix that,” Byleth stated, recalling Manuela as the name of the woman who treated her.

“Alas, I’ve got good old Professor Hanneman,” Sylvain frowned as he dropped his act, smoothing out his shirt as he looked towards Byleth. His gaze was gentle as his thoughts were a thousand miles away, recalling their first and only meeting all those years ago. “I might just have to change houses.”

“I doubt Manuela would be opposed to having another student.”

“That’s not what I—” the sound of a bell ringing interrupted Sylvain’s sentence as they witnessed the last students making their way into their respective classrooms. Byleth spotted Claude entering the classroom on the far side of the building, and she grinned. She turned to Sylvain one last time, offering him a mock salute, before running off to join the other Golden Deer, narrowly dodging the last few students who were trying to get into their own classes.

The moment Byleth stepped foot in the classroom, she immediately regretted her decision. Though she was aware that Claude had entered the room just moments before her, she had not anticipated him stopping to chat with one of their classmates. Unable to come to a sudden halt, Byleth went crashing into Claude’s chest. Her momentum was enough to send them both flying to the ground, Claude wrapping his arms around her waist out of reflex as he took the brunt of the fall.

“Ouch, you certainly know how to make an entrance… don’t you?” Claude grunted, slowly raising his head to look at the girl on top of him.

“My head…” though she was grateful that it was Claude’s chest she banged her head against rather than the floor, even magic couldn’t entirely eliminate the concussion she had received. Byleth slowly opened her eyes, not having realised that she had closed them, she saw verdant green eyes staring down at her in worry. The world was spinning slightly, but the only thing that she could seem to focus on were the pools of green staring at her. She sat there for what felt like hours as she saw something that seemed so familiar and yet so foreign before she heard her name pass through Claude’s lips.

“Byleth, are you okay?” his voice was huskier than she had been expecting it to be, and as Byleth blinked one more time, the world slowly began to come back into focus, and she realised that she was lying on Claude’s chest. He removed one of the arms from around her waist as he raised it to her bangs, brushing back the fringe as he looked at her injury. It felt different when Claude's finger's brushed against her face versus when Dorothea did, and Byleth wasn't quite sure why. Was it because Claude was checking her wound? “Just because the swelling went down doesn’t mean that the injury’s gone completely.”

“Oh, right…” though her head been feeling worlds better since she had woken up that morning, she knew he was right. Magic can only do so much in terms of injury, especially ones that affected the head. She moved to push herself off of Claude, but her arms went limp underneath her as she collapsed onto Claude again.

“Wow, the first day of classes and you’ve already managed to get a girl to fall for you,” the girl that Claude had previously been speaking to piped up, humour in her voice. “Jokes aside, is she okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…” Byleth felt Claude’s hand grip her upper arms as he slowly helped sit her up. Byleth rubbed her forehead as she muttered out various apologies to Claude, who insisted it was fine. She was quickly snapped out of her daze as she heard a throat clear from the doorway.

“What’s going on here?” she heard her father say, his voice dangerously low. Byleth looked from Claude to her father, before looking back to Claude. It had finally dawned on her that though Claude had helped move her to a sitting position, she was currently sitting on his lap, straddling him. Her eyes widened in panic as she attempted to climb off of Claude, nearly losing her balance once again. Claude, thankfully, hadn’t taken his hands off of her.

Though he could feel Jeralt’s glare on him, he got up and assisted Byleth in getting to her feet. For some reason, rather than telling her father the truth that she had aggravated her injury again, he had put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a side hug, causing Jeralt’s glare to deepen.

“Oh, I was just educating my dearest classmate about the dangers of running inside,” Claude joked, and Byleth was grateful that he had managed to capture Jeralt’s full attention because her cheeks were bright red.

“Uh-huh,” Jeralt narrowed his eyes at Claude, who stared right back at him, utterly unphased by the death glare he was being given. “Well if you wouldn’t mind taking your seats so we can begin.”

Jeralt’s gaze didn’t break from Claude until the later removed his arm from around Byleth’s shoulders. With a sigh, Jeralt made his way towards the front of the classroom, picking up a piece of chalk and writing his name onto the blackboard. Byleth quickly slinked into the desk nearest to her, noticing that Claude picked the spot beside her.

“What are you doing?” Byleth hissed at him, her eyes flickering towards her father, who’s back was still turned to the students as he wrote.

“Somebody needs to be here to catch you in case you collapse again,” Claude offered her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were filled with an emotion that Byleth couldn’t quite place. Concern, maybe? “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Byleth’s voice sounded harsher than she intended, so she took a deep breath before trying again. “Manuela healed my injury when we arrived at the monastery yesterday, and I spent the rest of the day on bed rest to heal. I’ve barely gotten a chance to look around.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Claude fought back a snicker as he shook his head, muttering something to himself that Byleth was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to overhear: “You never change, do you?”

“What are you—”

“My name is Jeralt Eisner, though some of you might know me by another name: Jeralt the Bladebreaker. And from today onwards, I’ll be your professor.”

The moment Jeralt had started speaking, Claude shifted his attention to their new professor, causing Byleth to begrudgingly look away from him and towards her father. Quickly growing bored with her father’s introductory speech (after all, she knew everything that he was saying already), Byleth decided to shift her gaze to her classmates.

The first figure her eyes landed on happened to be the girl who Claude had been speaking to earlier. To say that she didn’t look as though she belonged at an Officer’s Academy was an understatement. Her pink locks were pulled back into twin tails, and not a single hair was out of place. She wasn’t even pretending to pay attention to Jeralt speaking. Armed with a nail file rather than a practical weapon, her gaze flickered between her nails and her classmates. More often than once, Byleth noticed her sneaking glances in their general direction, whether they were aimed at her or at Claude was a mystery.

However, as soon as she met Byleth’s gaze, she smiled. She grabbed the piece of parchment that she was supposed to be using for notes, tearing it in half and scrawling a message onto it. After she finished writing, she fanned it lightly, tapping it to make sure it was dry before folding it up, swiftly passing it over to Byleth when Jeralt looked away. The bluenette took it curiously, looking between the folded-up parchment and the pink-haired girl. She gestured for Byleth to open it, so she did.

‘ _Hey there, my name’s Hilda! I’ve heard so much about you!_ ’ Byleth raised an eyebrow at that but kept reading, ‘ _Hope you’re okay after collapsing earlier. If you have any questions about anything, just let me know. Claude’s nice and all, but he can be really roundabout when he wants to be.’_

As soon as Byleth finished reading Hilda’s message, she couldn’t help but smile. She found it sweet how the girl, Hilda, was so willing to help her out. Though Byleth couldn’t help but wonder if she had an ulterior motive behind it. Even if she did, Byleth wouldn’t be much use to her. Her most useful ability was the one she kept most guarded.

Byleth spared a second glance at Hilda, offering her a smile and a nod, before continuing to examine her new classmates. They had a colourful class, with students with hair varying between shades of pink, orange, blonde, white, green, blue, and purple. The white-haired girl and the purple-haired man were both adamantly taking notes, while the blonde man looked as though he was about to fall asleep. The blue-haired woman looked as though she was trying to blend in with the wall, going completely unnoticed by the green-haired boy next to her. Though, he was too busy doodling on his paper to even pay attention to their new professor. Lastly, there was an orange-haired woman who sat up straight and giving Jeralt her full, undivided attention. Frankly, it was a bit unsettling, because unlike the others she wasn’t taking notes, she seemed to be trying to absorb the information in her brain like a sponge.

All in all, it was a very unique class.

“I believe some of you have already been made aware that there is going to be a mock battle at the end of the month,” Jeralt said. He had now begun to walk the length of the classroom as he spoke, grabbing a large textbook sitting on the far side of the room and dropping it onto the floor, attracting the attention of all of his students. With a soft smirk, he continued pacing, acting as though he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. “The faculty felt that it was only right to alert you right away since it’s just over a week from now. Now tell me. How many of you have actually been in a fight.”

Everybody’s hand went up, causing Jeralt to shake his head as he continued. “How many of you have been in a _proper_ fight. Not one where you’re rehearsing the movements, so you know how to do them for an actual fight. I mean a fight where you go until there’s one definite winner. How many?”

Several hands dropped, but Byleth noticed that she, Claude, Hilda, and the ginger-haired girl were the only ones who kept their hands raised. Upon seeing the results, Jeralt sighed, muttering something about having his work cut out for him. He took a moment to look at all of his students as he contemplated his next course of action. Finally, he pointed towards Byleth, speaking firmly. “State your name and your primary two weapons.”

Byleth instinctively sat up straight due to being put on the spot, though she supposed she would have to get used to this now that her father was her professor. He was as new to this whole thing as she was. However, Byleth had to search through her brain to come up with something to claim was her second choice in a weapon. Besides swordsmanship, there was only one thing that she could think of.

“My name is Byleth Eisner,” she said, focusing on her father rather than all of the eyes that were staring at her, “and I primarily focus on sword-fighting, but I know a bit of fire magic.”

“Excellent,” Jeralt gave his daughter a smile, “though being an only melee fighter or an only ranged fighter have advantages of their own, it is important to be versatile as well. You’re not always going to be put into situations where you can fight in one-or-the-other, which is why it’s important to have at least a bit of skill in both. Now, you,” he pointed at Claude, “name and two weapons.”

“The name’s Claude von Riegan,” Claude gave Jeralt a lazy smile, causing the man’s gaze to harden, “my speciality rests with archery, though I’m halfway decent with a sword.”

With a nod, Jeralt pointed from one student to another.

“Hi, I’m Hilda Valentine Goneril, and I really would prefer not to fight. Can’t I just, y’know, cheer from the sideline?” Jeralt gave Hilda a harsh glare, causing her to let out a groan before finally answering the question. “Well if I have to fight, I guess I’d use like, an axe, or a lance, or whatever.”

Jeralt, clearly as unenthused about Hilda’s answer as Hilda was giving it, continued on to the next student. He was a huge blond man who sported an equally large grin upon being picked to go next. He stood up from his chair, showing that he was even taller than Jeralt was, before speaking in a very cheerful voice.

“I’m Raphael Kirsten, and my favourite weapon is anything that lets me use my muscle!” though he said it amicably, Byleth couldn’t help but feel that if he wanted to, he could be quite intimidating. After all, he was so muscular that his shirt was hardly staying buttoned.

“That’s great, Raphael. Any two weapons in particular?”

“Hmm…” Raphael paused for a few minutes to think about it, and Jeralt was just about to move onto the next student before Raphael finally spoke up. He clapped his fist into his other hand as he called out. “My fists! I’ve got two fists, so do those count as two weapons?”

“Um…” Jeralt looked conflicted upon what to tell him and simply decided to nod, so the man didn’t waste any more class time. “Sure, why not.”

Satisfied with his answer, Raphael took a seat, and Jeralt pointed to the girl with orange hair, who spoke up the instant Jeralt pointed to her.

“My name is Leonie Pinelli, I’m from Sauin Village. About six years ago, you came to my village and taught me how to fight with a lance.” Leonie practically beamed as she told Jeralt all of this. “I’ve been practising with it ever since! I’m also quite skilled with a bow since my village relies a lot on hunting for a source of food.”

Byleth looked at Leonie curiously, she didn’t recognise the girl at all. And unlike with Sylvain and Felix, no particular memories came to mind when she thought of Sauin Village. Though, she suspected that might have been where her father had gone while she went with the others to Almyra.

“Ah, I remember now,” Jeralt slowly nodded as he gave Leonie a fatherly smile. “I almost didn’t recognise you, I’m glad to see you’ve been putting what I’ve taught you to good use.”

“I would like to talk to you after class, if that’s okay, I’ve got so much to tell you.” Jeralt nodded in response as he moved onto the next student. The next student who was questioned was a small boy with large, round spectacles adorning his face. Though that wasn’t the feature that Byleth found most apparent. No, his most noticeable feature was his olive-green bowl cut, which Byleth found merely atrocious. While Byleth was busy contemplating how to politely ask him to get a haircut, she nearly missed his introductory statement. Nearly.

“Oh, um… My name is Ignatz Victor, and I’ll admit that I don’t have much combat experience. But as long as I’ve got my glasses, I’m a decent enough shot with a bow and arrow. And since I’m, uh, training to become a knight I’ve got an interest with the sword, I guess.”

“You do, or you guess?” Jeralt asked, raising an eyebrow at Ignatz’s indecisiveness.

“I—uh, I do, sir,” he stuttered out, and Jeralt nodded his head as he looked at the blue-haired girl sitting beside him. When she realised everyone was looking at her, she looked down at her hands.

“My name is, um… do I have to do this?” she asked so quietly that Byleth could barely make out what she was saying.

“Yes,” Jeralt’s voice was gentler than when he was speaking with the rest of the students, but it was still firm.

“Alright… um… I’m M-Marianne von Edmund. I-I’m not very good at fighting… but I, uh, pray to the goddess a lot. A-And I’ve been, um… I’ve been trying to learn how to heal people with, um, magic… if that’s okay… I just don’t want to get in the way of anybody.”

“It’s always important to have a healer around, whether it’s through magic or medicine,” Jeralt told her gently. Not wanting to push her to say more than she was comfortable with, he moved onto the next student, the short girl with long, white hair sitting in the front row. She was sitting in a way that made her look taller than she was, though it wasn’t doing her much good.

“My name is Lysithea von Ordelia, and although I might be the youngest in our class, I would like to advise against treating me like a child. I’m a highly skilled mage in dark magic, though I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for me to start learning some healing magic as well.”

“Alright, is that everyone?” Jeralt asked, looking around the class. The purple-haired man sitting in the front row looked offended by Jeralt’s statement, causing him to remember that he had completely missed him. “Right, your name and your two preferred weapons: go.”

The man took a deep breath as though he had been preparing to shout out an objection at Jeralt nearly missing him that he had to redirect last minute. He had an asymmetrical haircut and a rose pinned to his uniform. Byleth thought he looked both refined and eccentric at the same time, which was an interesting combination, to say the least.

“Naturally, you _would_ save the best for last! My name is Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, heir to County of Gloucester. I am a noble, and I fight best with either a lance or with use of fire magic, something that I believe I have in common with your daughter, good sir.”

“Right,” Jeralt sounded relatively unimpressed with Lorenz's last comment, choosing to ignore it and speak aloud to the rest of the class. “We’ve got a pretty diverse group of fighters here, which is something that I’m glad to see. Everyone has different specialities, which means that if you all an manage to improve your skills in the next week, you’ll actually have a fighting chance against the other two houses in the mock battle. Now, my speciality lies within melee fighters. Magic users,” Jeralt looked between Lysithea, Lorenz and Marianne, “I expect the three of you to assist one another in practising your spells. My knowledge in magic is a limited one, and I don’t expect the other two professors to start helping out until after the mock battle is complete.

“For the two that specialise in archery, however,” Jeralt’s gaze shifted from Ignatz to Claude, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he looked at the house leader, “I’ve got a friend who’ll be free for the next week who would be willing to help you polish your skills. Fair warning, she won’t go easy on you.”

“I can’t wait,” Claude said, crossing his arms as he stared right back at Jeralt with a cocky grin. Little did he know how much he was going to regret those words.


	12. Apex Predator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” it was Alisha who broke through the silence, “what’s the Prince of Almyra doing all the way in Fódlan? Using an alias, no less.”
> 
> “I’ve not got the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
> 
> “Don’t play dumb, Khalid,” Alisha narrowed her eyes at the young man. “You might have grown, but I never forget a face. Need I remind you that somebody I lo—cared for died for you. I wouldn’t be able to forget about you even if I wanted to.”
> 
> Her words instantly sobered Claude up, and he dropped his coy smile as his face took on a more sombre expression as he recalled that fateful day. She was right, of course. He would never forget the blond mage who sacrificed his life to save both him and Byleth. So, it would make sense that just as he wasn’t able to forget Ronan, she wouldn’t be able to forget him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm not dead!
> 
> Sorry, university has been zapping away all of my energy to do anything productive. However, I'm trying to get myself out of my funk so I can get back to updating this on a regular basis. This story is my baby, and I want to thank you all again for your support. Every comment I get gives me a gentle reminder that I'm not just writing this story for my pleasure, but for all of yours as well. Thank you all for the support! Hopefully updates will be more frequent in the upcoming months. Without further ado, here's Chapter 12.

* * *

**I Think We’re Alone Now**

_xii. apex predator_

* * *

_22 nd Day of the Great Tree Moon_

_Imperial Year 1180_

_Morning_

* * *

_Forest Outside Garreg Mach Monastery_

* * *

“You know, considering what happened last time I was in the forest, I’m surprised we don’t have more supervision,” Claude couldn’t help but let out a sardonic laugh. “Or any, for that matter.”

“Isn’t the Professor’s friend supposed to be meeting us here?” Ignatz enquired, looking around them for any sign of their archery instructor. However, true to Claude’s previous observation, the only company that they had were the trees on the horizon.

It was only two short days ago that the house leaders were ambushed during their camping trip. It was also only two days since Jeralt and Byleth had returned with them to the monastery. And thus, a new future was crafted for not only the father and daughter but all of the other students as well. Jeralt was already the talk of the school—after all, it’s not every day that a famous mercenary becomes a teacher.

Claude couldn’t help but be grateful that he wasn’t going to be training with Jeralt. Not only did the older man have something against him, but Jeralt was also going to be under observation from curious students as well. And if they wanted to stand a chance in the mock battle, they couldn’t afford to have the other two houses know all of their fighting styles if they wanted to stand a chance.

The Golden Deer weren’t ever taken seriously, but if they could prove that they could hold their own in the mock battle, that could change. Sure, it wasn’t anywhere close to being the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, but it would still be the first chance they had to show their true strength. To show that despite Claude’s status as an outsider (because as far as everyone was aware, he’s the only house leader that’s not _technically_ royalty), he wasn’t one to be trifled with.

At least, that was the plan.

Unfortunately for Claude, the gods of fate had it out for him. Perhaps he was born on a day sacred to their enemy, or perhaps they just loathed the fact he always tried to challenge them. So, in all honesty, he shouldn’t have been at all surprised that things didn’t always go as smoothly as he hoped. There’s always going to be a hiccup in every plan.

And this hiccup happened to be by the name of Alisha Anne Fletcher.

“When Jeralt asked me to help him out, I was expecting him to give me a few snot-nosed kids. I wasn’t expecting to be teaching a prince how to properly shoot.”

Claude could feel his heart stop at the implication of Alisha’s words. His body shot around trying to locate the woman, who was sitting perched up in a tree a mere five meters away, staring him down with a knowing look. Though part of him couldn’t help but wonder how she got so close without him noticing, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. It was the least of his worries right now, after all.

He knew that there was a possibility of Jeralt still being in contact with some of the same mercenaries that had been with Byleth during her time in Almyra. But he hadn’t expected their instructor to be the only one who had a chance at recognising him. Despite recognising her in Remire, he had hoped that working with the Knights of Seiros would keep her too preoccupied to pay attention to the students at the Officers Academy.

After the assassination attempt all those years ago (if it could even be called an attempt), Alisha had spent plenty of time within the palace, keeping an eye on Byleth and working along-side his mother to track down the assailants. The fact that Alisha was at the monastery was bad enough. But the fact that she actually _recognised_ the prince was catastrophic. He had the good fortune of having a concussed Byleth confront him about his identity, which was easy enough to mislead. Unfortunately, something told Claude that Alisha wouldn’t be so easily fooled. So, he did the one thing that he knew how to do. He lied.

“I believe you’re mistaken, we’re the Golden Deer. It’s the Blue Lions that have the prince—Dimitri. The Leicester Alliance is just run by a group of nobles, I’m just fortunate enough to be related to the one in charge.”

“Is that so?” though it was posed as a question, it was clear to Claude that she didn’t buy his excuse whatsoever. “Prince or not, I was hoping that you would have at least had the common sense to bring your bow out here with you. After all, there aren’t any guards posted over here, what would have happened if I weren’t _friendly_? You should know better by now.”

Claude could feel his breath catch in throat as he replayed her words in his head. No doubt she was referring to their past in Almyra. His gaze flickered over to Ignatz, praying that he wasn’t clever enough to piece together what she was implying. Thankfully, Ignatz just gave her a thoughtful look, before apologising.

“Terribly sorry, Professor—”

“I’m not your Professor, just call me Alisha.”

“—but since you’re the one instructing us we thought it would be better to ask you if you were going to be the one to provide us with a bow and arrow to use or if we would have to fetch our own equipment from the training grounds. Because I’m not too sure if the equipment that they have is supposed to be used elsewhere.”

Alisha raised her eyebrows at Ignatz, whether because of his inclination to follow every rule or because of the fact that he had told her all of that without pausing for a single breath. “Well, for future reference. If anybody tries to stop you from taking a bow, tell them that you have permission from the Captain of the Knights of Seiros. That should shut ’em up.”

Claude couldn’t help but look at Alisha in shock. Was she serious or was that just an excuse that she had come up with so that they could do what they wanted? She was the captain?!

Honestly, it did make a bit of sense. Alois had mentioned that Jeralt had that position years ago but had decided to become a professor when he was re-employed at the monastery. And since it appeared as though Alisha was his right-hand man—er— _woman_ , it wasn’t unlikely to assume that she was just as skilled as he was. However, as far as he was aware, she had no ties with the Church of Seiros as it was. So how on earth did the job go to her and not somebody like Alois or Lady Catherine?

If Claude had to guess, it had something to do with the game of chess that Lady Rhea was playing. It wasn’t as though he had anything against the archbishop, but she certainly kept her cards close to her chest despite how she portrayed herself. After all, it was something that the two of them had in common. Though, he couldn’t help but feel as though it was a bit hypocritical considering how much the church preached about integrity and empathy.

Then again, what figurehead wasn’t a bit of a hypocrite. The church had just as much political power as any of the three nations. To keep that kind of power without pulling some strings was almost unheard of.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Claude questioned, looking between Alisha and Ignatz. “We’ve only got a week until the mock battle, so we might as well try to do what we can to hold our own against the other houses.”

“Yeah, we better go get our equipment,” Ignatz agreed. “We’ve probably wasted enough time as it is.”

“Actually, do you mind grabbing mine as well? I just wanted to have a quick chat with our new instructor here before the lesson actually begins.”

“Oh, do you?” Alisha turned towards Claude, a ghost of a smile on her face and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You’re not just trying to get out of doing exercise, are you?” Claude knew that this was going to be more difficult than he thought. There was no way that Alisha was going to make things easy for him. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had something against him personally, or if she just found this entire circumstance amusing.

“I just think that as the house leader, it’s important for me to know what it is exactly we’re going to be learning in case anybody else is interested pursuing archery,” Claude smoothly retorted. It was, after all, a perfectly valid reason as to why he might speak with Alisha. And if it weren’t for the fact that there were more pressing things to discuss with the woman at the moment, he might have even considered it as a smart move to make as house leader. Unfortunately, things were never as easy as they seem to be. Thankfully, Ignatz seemed to buy Claude’s explanation, slowly nodding his head in understanding.

“Alright,” he spoke after a moment, glancing from Claude to Alisha. “I’ll go get us each a bow. How many arrows do you think we’ll need?”

“Up to you how many trips you want to take to retrieve them,” Alisha shrugged. “Less arrows means you need to fetch them more often, but with more arrows, you’re going to dedicate more time locating them. I’m just seeing what you can do today.”

“So, you’re assessing us,” Claude summarised, a lazy grin on his face. “I guess we should have figured as much, the first lesson is always the slowest.”

“Perhaps. However,” a wicked smile spread across Alisha’s face, “if you don’t take this seriously as an actual battle, I’m more than willing to find something for you to actually fight.”

“Ah, r-right,” Ignatz adverted his gaze as he tried to keep a neutral expression. “I’ll, um, go get the equipment then…” Without waiting for a reply, Ignatz swiftly retreated back towards Garreg Mach Monastery. The moment that Claude was certain he was out of earshot, he turned towards Alisha with a serious look in his eye. She matched his stare with one of her own.

“So,” it was Alisha who broke through the silence, “what’s the Prince of Almyra doing all the way in Fódlan? Using an alias, no less.”

“I’ve not got the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, _Khalid_ ,” Alisha narrowed her eyes at the young man. “You might have grown, but I never forget a face. Need I remind you that somebody I lo— _cared_ for died for you. I wouldn’t be able to forget about you even if I wanted to.”

Her words instantly sobered Claude up, and he dropped his coy smile as his face took on a more sombre expression as he recalled that fateful day. She was right, of course. He would never forget the blond mage who sacrificed his life to save both him and Byleth. So, it would make sense that just as he wasn’t able to forget Ronan, she wouldn’t be able to forget him.

It was miraculous that Byleth hadn’t called him out on his bluff by now, though, she probably was in denial about the thought of actually running into the prince again. And the fact that he tricked her into thinking that he was a completely different person certainly didn’t make things any easier. A part of him felt a little bad for deceiving her, but that little inkling of guilt wouldn’t be enough for him to drop the façade and confess everything. Not only had he already lied to her, but he had lied to everybody else as well. He shouldn’t let one person have any sort of sway over the carefully weaved web he’s created for himself. Five years is a long time, after all.

Alisha was another story, however. He couldn’t help but wonder if Byleth ever told Alisha about her time-altering abilities and the fact that it should have been Claude who died that day and not Ronan. He doubted it, if Alisha knew the truth then he doubted he would still be standing there unharmed.

Honestly, Claude was at a loss for words. He could try to continue to deny his identity, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. She had already called him out on it, after all. He blamed it on the fact that she was an archer. Archers had the uncanny gift for being remarkably perceptive.

Truth be told, he knew that there was no getting out of this. Besides, if memory served him right, Alisha and his mother took to one another like a duck to water. Anybody who had anything in common with his mother was somebody that he should fear. She wasn’t called the ‘Demon Queen’ for nothing. There were only two options available, coming clean to Alisha or avoiding the topic altogether. And as much as he would love to ignore the elephant in the room, he knew that there was always a lingering chance she would bring it up again somewhere that somebody could overhear.

And by somebody, Claude meant Lorenz. He was well aware that the noble had been following him around. If he were to overhear Alisha talking about Almyra… everything he’s worked for would have been for nothing. The confrontation between him and Alisha would be inevitable, so it was better for it to happen now in the middle of the forest rather than in the crowded monastery. He would just have to choose his words very carefully. Though he couldn’t lie, he could offer half-truths.

Not wanting to waste any longer with his thought than he already had, he spoke, looking Alisha directly in the eye as he kept his voice steady. “It’s not an alias, it is the name my mother gave me,” this statement was true, “but it’s not my only name. Last time I checked; it wasn’t a crime to have two names.”

“I s’pose not. But that doesn’t explain why you so quickly denied being a prince when your classmate was here.” Alisha didn’t miss the way that Claude tensed up the moment the word ‘prince’ passed through her lips. “Don’t worry, your _buddy_ is gone still. It’s just you and me. Unless you want him to be back to hear your bullshit excuses, I suggest you stop stalling.”

“I’m not stalling,” Claude denied. Even though the thought certainly had crossed his mind, he was well aware that stalling wouldn’t get him anywhere this time around. He needed to make sure that he and Alisha were on the same page, least she reveals something that she shouldn’t in the company of those who truly shouldn’t know such things. “It’s just not easy for me to formulate what to say right now. What, do you just want to me come out and say that I am exactly who you think I am?”

“Well, I already know that!” for the first time since the conversation began, Alisha finally broke eye contact with Claude. Admittedly, it was to roll her eyes. But with the heavy gaze removed, even just for a moment, the boy felt as though he could finally breathe. “I’m more curious about the _why_ if I’m honest. Does Byleth know?”

Claude could feel a lump in his through as she brought up Byleth, and he couldn’t help but avert his gaze as he tried to summarise a list of reasons as to why it was important that she couldn’t find out. Unfortunately, Alisha came to her own conclusion much quicker than Claude could. Her eyes widened in surprise before swiftly narrowing as her eyebrows furrowed in anger. “What the fuck?!”

“It’s not as if I don’t want to—”

“Bull-fucking-shit!” Alisha cursed. “If you wanted to you would have fucking told her!”

“It’s not as easy as that!” Claude shouted, his face turning red in anger at the implication of her words. “You know how bad the relationship between Fódlan and Almyra is! If somebody were to make the connection between the Duke’s grandson and the Almyran prince—”

“And you really think Byleth’s the sort of person that would rat you out?!”

“No! I mean, yes? I don’t know! It’s been a long time since we saw each other last—”

“And yet, you knew her well enough to give her a ring goodbye,” Alisha pointed out. “You know she’s still wearing that thing, right? I’ve _never_ seen her take it off. Do you really think that somebody who obviously cares so much about you would betray you?!”

Whether or not Claude believed Byleth could keep a secret didn’t alter the fact that there was a chance that he could be exposed. That even if it weren’t intentional, one slip of the tongue could result in everyone questioning who ‘Khalid’ was. The first one who would likely put two-and-two together would be Hilda, who’s family guarded the border between Fódlan and Almyra. Though he believed the pink-haired girl had the best intentions, from the few days he’s known her, he’s come to the realisation that she’s a notorious gossip.

Honestly, the fact that Alisha had been the one to figured out Claude’s identity made him all the more fearful. Frankly, Claude trusted her far less than he trusted Byleth.

Truth be told, even if he thought that she would avoid saying his Almyran name, he was _scared_ to tell Byleth the truth. They had only just been reunited a few days ago, and Claude’s already lied to her about his identity. Even if he were to come clean now, there was always the risk that he would accidentally let her become the primary object of his attention. As much as he would like to hope that wouldn’t be the case when he was a child, his main focus was on how to spend as much time with Byleth as possible. She was his best friend, for crying out loud.

But things change. _They’ve_ changed. They’ve spent years apart, after all. And deep down, Claude was terrified that Byleth would realise that Khalid and Claude are two entirely different people. Would she even like the person that he’s become? Even though his goals were noble, the way he’s gone about achieving them have been questionable, to say the least. Not to mention, there was the fact that Byleth had the ability to manipulate time. Despite knowing that she would be a powerful ally to have, Claude didn’t trust himself to not take advantage of her gift. The last thing that he wanted to do was to use Byleth.

All in all, it was better for both of them if his former friend continued to be left in the dark about his true identity. At least, until they after everything was said and done when they were out of the Academy. Hopefully, by then, Claude would somehow find a way to unite Fódlan and Almyra.

It wasn’t until Alisha scoffed in annoyance did Claude realise that he had yet to respond to her.

“It’s not as though I don’t trust Byleth,” he said slowly, “I just don’t trust everybody else. All it takes is for one person to overhear something that they shouldn’t for things to escalate out of control.”

“What do you mean by out of control?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Claude said a little too quickly. He had long since given up on trying to make this conversation go his way. In the end, he supposed it didn’t matter if Alisha liked him or not, just so long as she wouldn’t reveal his secret. And it seemed as though his instructor had come to the same conclusion that he had.

“Look, if whatever you’re hiding is _that_ bad, it might be best for you to just stay away,” though there wasn’t any malice in her voice, the words she spoke struck Claude like a knife. Alisha, he remembered, had spent _years_ with Byleth, while he’s only spent months. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she had reacted the way she did. No matter how strong his feelings were towards the bluenette, it was Alisha who was practically family to her. “She’s a good kid, I’d hate for her to get dragged into somebody else’s shit. That being said, she obviously cares about you—at least, the old you—and everybody has some baggage of some kind. Believe me when I say it’s better to have someone that you can trust rather than trying to deal with it all on your own.”

“Are you telling me that I should stay away from Byleth or that I should confide in her? I’m kinda getting mixed signals here.”

“What I’m saying is that it’s your life. But,” Alisha cracked her knuckles, “if you make her cry, I’ll beat the shit out of you.” This, Claude didn’t doubt. The woman before him, despite her size, was actually _quite_ terrifying. Not as terrifying as his mother, but scary enough for Claude to know that it was in his best interest to avoid being on her bad side long-term.

“I don’t want to upset Byleth, that was never my intention,” Claude openly admitted. “I’m just saying that I’ve got a lot of responsibilities. Not just for me, but for my family, _my people_. And as much as I would love to just say fuck it, it’s not that easy. I can’t just… I can’t tell her. Not right now. Someday I will, but not now. I need time to figure things out. Can you promise you’ll keep this information to yourself?” 

“I’m not going to lie for you,” Alisha told him, an unreadable expression on her face. “If Byleth asks me, I’ll tell her exactly what she wants to know. But…” she clicked her tongue, giving Claude a look over, “if it makes you feel better, I won’t go out of my way to tell anybody. Alright?”

Though it wasn’t quite what he was hoping for, he knew that Alisha was being generous, all things considered. It was better than her just flat out denying his request. Besides, he doubted that Byleth would be turning to Alisha to confirm his identity. With the many other students that she could occupy herself with (Claude recalled Byleth mentioning that she never really had friends her age due to her upbringing), it was unlikely that she would choose to pursue his identity. Especially since she so quickly accepted his lie when she initially confronted him about it.

“Alright,” Claude agreed, letting out a gentle sigh. If he was honest, he almost wished that he told Jeralt his primary weapon was the sword and not the bow. This entire confrontation had filled him with unparalleled anxiety over the fact that there was somebody who knew his secret. “Just remember to keep in on the down-low, alright?”

“Alright, whatever,” the woman shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, but the way her face softened ever so slightly by Claude’s obvious discomfort, he couldn’t help but hope she was more willing to help than she was letting on. “I hope you realise that you can’t keep this charade up forever. The longer it takes for you to come clean, the worse it’ll be.”

“I know,” Claude couldn’t help but wonder if she was referring to his secrecy in general or from Byleth in particular. His internal question was answered a moment later.

“Byleth is _literally_ going to kill you when she finds out you lied,” Claude was about to open his mouth to tell her that he would be fine when she continued. “I’m serious. When she was with you, she was the happiest I’ve ever seen her. When she finds out that you’re, well,” Alisha did a vague gesture to all of Claude’s body, “ _you,_ she’s going to be pissed.”

“And I deserve everything that’s coming to me, I know, I know,” Claude sighed (he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately), as he offered Alisha a sad smile. “Trust me, I’m not any happier about this than you are. At least if I’m killed by Byleth, I know it’ll be quick and painless. She’s an expert swordswoman after all. Unless she chooses to use her magic, then I know she’s pissed. Nothing says ‘love’ like being burned alive.”

“Oh, so that’s what you’re into now, is it?”

“That’s not what I—”

“I know,” Alisha gave Claude a playful look, which he supposed was a good thing. The fact she was willingly joking with him proved that she wasn’t too upset about his dishonesty. Or that she was a better actress than anyone gave her credit for.

“Er—I’m back!”

Both Alisha and Claude turned towards Ignatz, who came from the direction of the monastery with two bows in his hands and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. As Alisha greeted the shorter boy, Claude couldn’t help but look at him sceptically. Though he didn’t know the boy that well, judging by the frazzled expression he wore, he couldn’t help but wonder just how much of the conversation the boy overheard.

He just prayed it wasn't anything that would cause problems down the line.

* * *

Despite Alisha’s claim that all she had planned for the day was to see what they were capable of; she had put the Ignatz and Claude through rigorous exercise. Claude was far more exhausted from her training than anything that he had been subjected to back in Almyra. He honestly feared for the health of those training under Jeralt if Alisha was anything like her former boss. Though, it certainly did explain why Byleth was as skilled as she was.

“You two did good today,” Alisha complimented the two young men as they walked back towards the monastery. “How about we stop by the village on the way back to the monastery? I honestly could go for a pint or two.”

“Prof—um, Alisha,” Ignatz said awkwardly, rubbing his neck as he spoke, “we’re not old enough to drink yet.”

“Well, I need a drink. You two can just wander around or whatever. Enjoy the time you’ve got outside of the monastery. You’re still new to the area, aren’t you? Take this chance to explore. Or head back. Honestly, I don’t particularly care one way or the other.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on us?” Claude raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not your professor,” Alisha reminded, nudging the house leader with her elbow, “besides, if anybody tries to start shit outside the monastery then they’re too stupid to be a real threat. There are knights everywhere around here. Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“I’m more worried what Teach will do to you if he finds out you ditched us,” Claude said.

“Eh, I can take him,” Alisha paused for a moment, a thoughtful look on her face. “Probably.”

“Is he really that strong?” Ignatz questioned, eagerly looking towards Alisha for information about the newest professor at Garreg Mach.

“Well, they don’t call him ‘Jeralt the Bladebreaker’ for nothing,” Alisha said simply. “Though just between us, his kid’s made him a bit of a softy. The Jeralt of legend and Jeralt of fatherhood are two different people. I mean, he can still kick your ass,” she gave Claude a pointed look, “but he cares more about Byleth than anything else. Why else do you think we’re here?”

Claude honestly hadn’t expected Byleth and Jeralt to stick around for long after the camping trip rescue, the fact that they returned with them to the monastery was shock enough. When Claude found out that one of his saviours was going to be their new Professor was a shock, to say the least.

Then again, it wasn’t as though Rhea performed background checks on her staff. The fact that their almost teacher was a fraud and a coward proved that. At least Jeralt had a history with the church. Though that also provokes the question: why did he leave in the first place? And why didn’t he return when he first became a father? Certainly, it would have made more sense to raise his daughter at Garreg Mach than on the road as a mercenary.

“Anyway, this is where I say goodbye,” Alisha’s voice snapped Claude out of his train of thought. Looking around at the people bustling around and the sudden addition of various shops and stalls, he knew that they had arrived back to the village. “I’ll let the boss—er, _Jeralt_ —know when your next lesson is.”

With a mock salute, Alisha sauntered off towards the nearest pub. Claude looked over to Ignatz, who looked increasingly uncomfortable under his stare. “Since we’re in town, I have a few things that I, uh, need to get. Will you be alright on your own?”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Claude questioned, offering the boy a charming smile. Ignatz opened his mouth to respond, but Claude cut him off before he had a chance. “I’ll be fine, go do your thing. Whatever it is.”

“Right,” Ignatz offered Claude a half-hearted smile before practically running off. Claude couldn’t help but purse his lips as he looked at his retreating figure, wondering just why he seemed so frightened. Even if he were to have overheard anything that could even be seen as ‘incriminating’, it didn’t explain his reaction—

“Claude?”

Upon hearing his name, Claude glanced over to see Byleth leaning against a wall, sketchbook in hand. She had her eyebrow raised, looking at him curiously as he stood there, trying to push what Alisha had told him earlier to the back of his mind.

“What are you doing here?” Claude asked before he could stop himself. Byleth just nodded towards the sketchbook in her hand. “Ah, right. Drawing. Should have guessed.”

“What gave it away?” she teased.

“Well, if you ignore the fact, you’re actively holding a sketchbook, I’d say it’s because you’re a swordsman. To be as skilled with a blade as you are, you’ve got to have a precise hand, right? I can imagine that it could easily be transferred over to paper.” That, and he’s seen her sketch hundreds of times before back when he was Khalid.

“I wonder if the same could be applied to other students at the academy,” Byleth wondered out loud. “I’ll admit, I’m rather curious to see what kind of drawing Felix would be capable of. Rumour has it that he’s the best swordsman at the academy.”

“Rumours should always be taken with a grain of salt,” Claude reminded, though he seriously didn’t doubt what was said about Felix. Though the rumours didn’t consider one key factor: Byleth. “After seeing what you were capable of back in Remire, I’d bet my money that you’d easily best him.”

“You give me too much credit,” she argued, though her cheeks were turning pink at the praise.

“You don’t give yourself enough. Considering that you were fighting with a concussion—”

“—most of the fighting I did was pre-concussion—"

“—yet you still managed to play the role of the knight in leather armour! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t still be here.” He meant that in more ways than one.

“The same applies to you. I got reckless, and because of that, I got hurt.” Byleth let out a drawn-out sigh, tucking her sketchbook under her arm. “My dad’s not even allowing me to train with the others, I’ve been confined to the library most of the day.”

“There are worse things,” Claude reminded. “You could have been suck on stable duty.”

“Honestly, that might have almost been preferred, I saw Lysithea in the library and was hoping she would be able to help me understand a few runes I wasn’t familiar with. But it’s been a long time since I’ve worked with magic, and she got upset at me for wasting her time.” Claude couldn’t help but notice Byleth puff her cheeks out slightly in a pout.

“Seriously?”

“I don’t think she meant it, honestly,” she shrugged. “Lysithea snapped at a few other students who approached her as well. I think she’s just having a bad day.”

“You know you’re allowed to be angry at people for doing something that upsets you, right? You don’t have to justify their actions.” Perhaps her tendency not to take things to heart should have been reason enough for Claude to come clean. If she could forgive Lysithea for snapping on her, she could forgive Claude for telling a small lie a few days ago, right?

But it wasn’t just a small lie, was it? It was a huge lie, and if he were to tell her then it could very well change the foundation of their entire relationship—not that they had one of those, they’ve just ‘met’ one another. If he were to be honest with her, then that would mean that he would have to start being honest with himself.

He wasn’t all that sure he was ready for that.

Thankfully, before he could spiral too far into the depths of his mind, Byleth spoke up. “I know I can, I just didn’t think that this was something worth getting upset over. Lysithea’s the youngest of us, she’s just trying to prove that she’s not any lesser because of her age. Unfortunately, that also means that she’ll be working twice as hard to prove her intellect is superior.”

“Damn, you’ve been here for a day, and you’ve already got her figured out?” Claude quirked his eyebrow, giving Byleth his full attention. She shifted slightly under his gaze, her turning pink as she redirected her eyes elsewhere. “Colour me impressed.”

“It’s not that exciting, I’m just observant.” A dangerous quality, all things considered.

“What else have you picked up from our dearest classmates?”

 _‘What have you picked up about me’_ was the question that he really wanted to ask, but he knew that once he went down that rabbit hole, then there was no going back. It was bad enough that he was speaking with her outside of class, but for some reason, he couldn’t come up with an excuse to leave. Byleth was like a drug that he just couldn’t quit. You think after all these years, it would be easier.

“Well, so far Raphael and Ingrid are the only two who give me competition for how much I can eat,” Byleth stated, furrowing her brows as she tried to recollect more. “And I’m still trying to figure out who’s flirted with me more since I arrived: Sylvain or Dorothea.”

At that, Claude’s eyebrows skyrocketed. Was she already that popular among the students? He knew that she was a catch, but it hadn’t crossed his mind that _other_ people saw it too. Though he wanted to pretend that this discovery didn’t faze him, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy in his chest that he knew he had no right to feel. After all, it had been _years_ since they were last together.

And she doesn’t even know him. Not really.

“Sylvain I’m not surprised over,” Claude found himself saying, determined to avoid portraying his internal turmoil, “he’ll fawn over anything in a skirt. Dorothea, however, is another story.”

“I think she’s doing it to get a rise out of Sylvain,” Byleth admitted. “At least, that was the impression I got. She did it a few times when he wasn’t around though, so I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I’ve never really given much thought into whether or not I like girls.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you like girls?”

“I don’t know, maybe?” Byleth looked at Claude in confusion. “Do you?”

“I—what?” How did this get back to him? “Yes!”

"Are you sure?"

"What?!"

"I mean, it's honestly fine if you don't. If you think anyone will give you a hard time about it, I'm more than willing to kick their ass."

On the one hand, he was flattered that Byleth was willing to protect his honour, but on the other, he couldn't help but feel this was supposed to be the other way around. And he wasn't gay! There was only one person who he's ever honestly considered spending his life with, and that person wasn't a man.

“I like girls. Well, _a_ girl.”

“Like?” Fuck, he should have used past tense. He liked a girl, Byleth if we’re specific, but that was a long time ago! Now his current feelings towards her were neutral. Completely platonic. “Anyone we know?”

“No.” _Yes_. “It was somebody back home. But the chance for that is long gone.”

“You never know,” Byleth assured him. “Fate works in mysterious ways. If you were meant to be, then it’ll be. If not then,” Byleth shrugged, “at least you’re quite the catch.”

Claude didn’t understand how a girl who was so easily flustered was also so bold. He suspected that it had something to do with catching her off guard. If she was the one to speak, then she was in charge of the situation. However, if there was an anomaly such as—

“That’s quite the compliment, coming from you,” Claude winked at the bluenette as he tested his hypothesis. “After all, you’ve only been here a few days and already caught the attention of two of our most popular classmates. That’s no easy task. Better be careful, or perhaps I’ll have to follow in their pursuit.”

Though her cheeks weren’t as bright as he would have liked, they were tinted pink as she rolled her eyes at him. “You shouldn’t joke like that.”

“My bad,” Claude held his hands up innocently, though from the grin on his face it was plain to see that he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. After all, if he couldn’t admit how he felt, he could at least joke about it. “I didn’t mean to cause any offence.”

“It’s fine,” Byleth said, rubbing her cheeks as though she might be able to wipe the blush off them if she tried hard enough. Honestly, Claude thought it was pretty cute. “I’m just not used to any of this.”

Claude didn’t have to guess too hard to figure out what Byleth was referring to. In addition to having grown up as a mercenary, constantly on the road, she was the daughter of the leader. Meaning that to any sane member (though considering they were mercenaries he already doubted their sanity to begin with), she was _off-limits._ And considering the fact that she was still wearing that stupid ring he gave her all those years ago, he had a feeling she wasn’t particularly bothered by that fact.

Oh gods, Alisha was right: when Byleth found out, she was going to kill him.

Then again, it wasn’t his fault, was it? After all, their relationship wasn’t actually romantic in nature. They were best friends! He didn’t even know if her feelings for him were anything _but_ platonic! He could be completely misinterpreting the situation. But that wouldn’t explain why she had referred to it as her ‘love life’ when they first met.

“It’s getting pretty late, we should probably head back,” Byleth suggested, looking up at the sky. The sun was starting to set, and soon nightfall would be upon them. Claude happily agreed to head back to the monastery. Maybe he could find something there to distract himself from his thoughts.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to last the year.

* * *

_28 th Day of the Great Tree Moon_

_Imperial Year 1180_

_Noon_

* * *

_Stables, Garreg Mach Monastery_

* * *

“Barbary, I brought you a treat,” Byleth called into the stables, tossing an apple in her hand as she searched the vicinity for her father’s horse. After taking up residence at the monastery, Lady Rhea instructed a few stable hands to make room for Jeralt’s horse. And since Byleth had made it a blatant attempt to avoid the Mess Hall during prime mealtime (a few days ago she was dragged around by Hilda and forcibly introduced to every student in the area), she decided to make use of her free time to make sure Barbary was properly cared for.

After all, her father still hadn’t allowed her to train with the others, even after Manuela had given her the okay.

“Honestly, where are you?” Byleth huffed, glancing from horse to horse. “It’s not exactly as though you’re capable of hiding… did somebody take you out?”

It wasn’t unlikely, a fair share of Jeralt’s mercenaries decided to work alongside the Knights of Serios since they didn’t have anywhere else to go. Despite their current arrangement, their loyalties still resided with Jeralt. However long he decided to remain at the monastery determined how long they would be around for. Though, it wasn’t as if Byleth was in any position to judge them. Her father was the only reason she was here as well.

Attending a proper school wasn’t anything that she had ever foreseen in her future. The closest she had ever been was back in Fhirdiad when she (and Sothis) broke into the School of Sorcery in an attempt to find anything that could reawaken Sothis’s dormant memories.

It had been years since Sothis awoke, and despite that, they hadn’t had any progress in unlocking Sothis’s past. Though she wouldn’t ever openly admit it to Byleth, Sothis had resigned herself to the belief that it would forever remain a mystery. The bluenette, however, still held on to hope. There was a reason that they were bonded, after all. They just hadn’t discovered it yet.

“ ** _What are you thinking about?_** ” a familiar voice rang through Byleth’s head. She couldn’t help but fight back a chuckle. Speak of the devil.

“I wonder if we’ll find any answers here,” Byleth thought out loud. “After all, isn’t the Goddess supposed to know everything?”

“ ** _Please tell me that your solution to our decade-long problem isn’t to pray,_** ” Sothis sounded exasperated. “ ** _Do you not agree that if it were truly that straightforward, we would have unravelled this mystery already?_** ”

“Sometimes the most complicated solutions are the simplest,” Byleth reminded her. The truth was that they didn’t know the truth. They had searched all over Fódlan during their travels only to come up empty-handed. Nothing seemed familiar to Sothis, and Byleth couldn’t help but wonder if Sothis was from somewhere else in the world altogether. Even if she wasn’t Almyran, there were so many other countries that they could search to try to uncover the mystery that was Sothis. 

“ ** _It certainly took you some years to realise that one,_** ” Sothis teased, and Byleth rolled her eyes, taking a bite of the apple that she had originally brought for Barbary. He obviously wasn’t in the stables, so there wasn’t really much reason for her to stick around for much longer.

Turning to leave the stables, Byleth noticed a flash of colour out of the corner of her eye. Furrowing her eyebrow, she glanced over, finally noticing a limp figure spread across a pile of hay. She approached slowly, scanning over the body for any sign of blood. Considering the area was next to the Knights Hall, she doubted that somebody would have ditched a body here. More likely it was some unfortunate soul who got trampled by a horse.

Byleth was practically standing over him now, scanning him up-and-down for sign of injury. Admittedly, he looked rather peaceful laying there. His dark green hair was spread out around his face, giving him the illusion of having a halo. And his porcelain skin was devoid of any blemish or blood, causing Byleth to immediately dismiss an injury to the head being the reason that he was downed. Though, he was wearing an academy uniform which didn’t appear to be damaged in the slightest.

“How peculiar,” Byleth mumbled as she found herself reaching towards the man’s neck to take his pulse. Perhaps he had simply fainted?

The sound of clattering from behind stopped Byleth in her tracks as she whipped her head towards the noise, catching Ignatz standing awkwardly over a pile of rakes which he had appeared to knock over. Meeting her gaze, he looked absolutely panicked as he glanced from Byleth to the man beneath her, all colour leaving his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that escaped was a high-pitched yelp before he promptly slammed his hand over his mouth to silence himself. He glanced at Byleth one more time before promptly dropping his hand and shouting: “I didn’t see anything, please don’t kill me!” and running off.

Byleth stood there, dumbfounded by what had just happened when she heard a groan escape from the man lying on the hay.

“So loud…” he sighed, raising his hand up to his face as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. After a moment, they opened, and his dark sapphire eyes looked at Byleth with curiosity. “You’re not who I expected.”

“Who were you expecting?”

“Manuela, honestly. I forgot that I fell asleep here rather than in class.” The man stood up slowly, stretching as he did so. Byleth couldn’t help but wince as she heard his back crack. “I had hope that the hay would have been more comfortable than the dirt, but the only thing it accomplished was making me itchy. How bothersome.”

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“Ah, right…” he yawned. “You’re the new one around here, Byleth Eisner. I suppose it’s only natural that I know of you, yet you haven’t heard a thing about me. Honestly, the fact that this school has its students sorted into different houses is counterproductive. They want to encourage unity between the three nations but still impose segregation. At least the monastery doesn’t play favourites. I’m Linhardt, by the way…”

“You’re in the…” Byleth searched her brain to try to remember what Hilda had told her about the various students, “…Black Eagle house, right?”

“Very good, though you did have a 50/50 chance of getting it right.”

“What were you doing sleeping in the stables?”

“Well, I was on put on stable duty, but things didn’t look all that bad. So, I decided that I would pretend like I was behind this and catch up on some much-needed sleep.” Linhardt gave Byleth an inquisitive look, cocking his head slightly to the side. “You won’t tell on me, will you?”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Byleth informed him. “I just don’t understand why you stayed though. Didn’t you just admit that the hay made you itchy?”

“I was hoping that it would pass,” he shrugged. “It didn’t. And now I know that the stables are one of the worst places on the monastery to nap.” Linhardt gave the pile of hay he had previously been resting on a half-hearted glare, causing Byleth to let out a soft laugh. “I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.”

“I’d hardly call it suffering. You could have gotten up the minute you laid down and found it uncomfortable. You’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“Perhaps, but I was tired. It was accessible. It seemed like a win-win situation.”

“And how’d that go for you?”

“Not as well as I’d hoped,” Linhardt sighed. “So, what brings you here?”

“To the monastery or to the stables?”

“Both.”

“Well, my dad somehow got roped into becoming a professor, and I got dragged along for the ride. I was just here to feed his horse, but Barbary was nowhere to be seen.”

“Barbary? Oh, I think that was one of the horses that got kidnapped last night. A real shame.”

“ _What?!_ ” Byleth’s eyes went wide as she looked at Linhardt in shock about his nonchalant attitude. He stared blankly at her for a few moments, before a small smile grazed his lips.

“I was joking.”

“Asshole.” At that, they both let out a small laugh. Byleth opened up her mouth to say more but was cut off when she heard Hilda calling her name in the distance. With a sigh, she flashed Linhardt an apologetic look. “Talk to you later?”

“I’ll probably be napping.”

“I’ll try not to trip over you,” Byleth joked before leaving the stables, heading in the direction she heard the pink-haired girl call her from. It only took her a few minutes to locate Hilda, who perked up upon seeing her.

“ _Finally,_ there you are,” Hilda looked at Byleth as though she were the final prize to a scavenger hunt and Hilda had just won. “Maybe we’ll be able to get out of class after all.” Upon Byleth’s inquisitive look, Hilda elaborated, grabbing Byleth by her hand and dragging her along after her.

“Professor Jeralt wanted us to spar with you and said that we weren’t allowed to finish class until we did. Of course, I would have much preferred to sit in the grass and wait for someone to look for you—no offence, you’re just tough to track down, like honestly, you should be a ninja if this doesn’t work out—anyway, I was threatened to be forced to participate in extra training if I didn’t help out. And since I found you, nobody can say shit. Hell, maybe the professor will be so grateful that I’ll be able to get out of sparring you all together.”

“I doubt it, there are only a few days until the mock battle between the three houses, right?” Hilda nodded. “Then my dad’s still going to give it his all.”

Byleth wouldn’t say that Jeralt is a particularly competitive man, but that’s only because there hasn’t been much against him in terms of ‘competition’. He was highly skilled, it was part of the reason he was so renown, after all. But in addition to that fact, he had a kind soul. Even though these kids were only going to be sparing against their classmates, it was only a matter of time before things started to become progressively more dangerous. He wanted to have them be prepared to protect themselves as soon as possible. Next, he would teach them how to protect others. Finally, he would teach them how to always come out victorious.

It was an ambitious goal, but Byleth had no doubts about Jeralt’s capability. After all, he raised her to be the person she was now. It wasn’t an easy journey, but he managed to keep her alive despite raising her among mercenaries.

The world wouldn’t know what hit them. Under Jeralt’s guidance, soon, their enemies would come to fear the deer. But for now, they needed to take things one stride at a time. They needed to win the mock battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that was worth the wait. I've got a quick question for all of you: do you want the next chapter to portray the events of the mock battle and the aftermath, or do you want to jump straight into next month (and next chapter)?


End file.
